


Animorphs 61 - The Reach

by Adam2810



Series: Animorphs Series Continuation [7]
Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Age, Aging, Andalites, Gen, War, Yeerks, kelbrid, kelbrids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-05-13 02:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 28,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14740688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adam2810/pseuds/Adam2810
Summary: In their ongoing mission to rescue Ax the Animorphs have sided with the Yeerk Surote to take advantage of the universe's greatest technologies, but it comes at a price. Surote has enlisted them for a dangerous mission involving the Kelbrids and a signal station near the Gratt Border. They aren't ordinary signals being transmitted, but the lifelines of a very dangerous machine...





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**_3 Years Earlier_ **

   The Sun was setting. It’s blinding glow settled cosily between the two tallest treetops that surrounded my territory, just as it did the day before. The day before that. And the day before that.

   And it would rise over the left edge of the mountain to the East, just as it would always. I knew that it changed, deep down. The seasons would shift it, and the Sun would linger for long in the Summer and would cower from the bitter chill in the Winter. But every day, no matter what, I would watch it rise and fall like clockwork. It never changed.

   Part of me believed that I had grown comfortable. I had fallen into a cycle of my own. Every day the same. I rose in the morning, and retired in the evening. I flew high up in the sky, and watched over the trees and the mountains. Watching, but never truly touching. It was a distant comfort, really. I didn’t have to fear, didn’t have to harm anybody. I could just watch and rummage through every emotion under my massive burning counterpart. Not that I ever truly felt them. I acknowledged their existence, pondered at their curiousness and remembered the times where they would coil around my fragile body like overgrown leeches.

   _Oh, Tobias, you don’t need to be so over-dramatic. Get a grip!_

   My own internal monologue was my main source of entertainment. Somewhere in this sleek hawk brain was a bedraggled young man, itching for a life of more than just seeking prey items and finding a warm place to nest in the winter. Only in internal monologue could he truly push himself upon me.

   He had grown tired of the view. Tired of seeing the Sun rise and fall in the exact same place every day. Tired of watching but never touching. Tired of the monotony, of the distance from everything he found himself at.

   _The Hawk is the ‘He’. ‘I’ am Tobias!_

   Tobias… _I_ was a Human, but it had been so long since I’d even talked to one. I saw them a lot, wandering around Yellowstone with video cameras and backpacks full of picnic items. Mostly during the Summer, but some still braved the cold at this time of year. Even when the snow came down and threatened impassable barriers, and the wind chill sent teeth chattering like maracas. That would indicate my time to leave, to travel south where the air was warmer. I always returned just in time for Spring to liven the place up again. That was when the park would start getting busy with the less daring tourists yet again.

   Sometimes they took pictures of me, not even wondering if I was the one that disappeared. They had no idea that I was that Human trapped in a hawk’s body. In a way, it made me sad. Like I had simply been forgotten.

   Who could I blame but myself? I left them and never went back. Not once. I stayed long enough to say goodbye to Rachel, the only one that kept my humanity alive. Since then, I’d been feeling the hawk slowly taking control, day by day, every time the Sun rose and collapsed.

   Yet, it remained. I would be lying if I said that I talked to nobody, that I didn’t confide in friends and share Human-like memories with other sentient beings.  I did just enough to hold onto my old self, and I did it on my own accord. Usually.

   When I saw the leaves of my tree rustle with activity, I knew that this was not one of those times. I only waited to see which of the regular visitors it was. When I clambered across my perch to face the trunk, I saw her steadily rising between the dense upper branches. She reached forward, wrapped herself around the trunk and twisted her neck to look backwards at me.

   “Hello, Tobias!” Ket greeted.

   ((Hi, Ket,)) I replied. ((You’re never here this late.))

   “Ket come when Ket needs.” She said prissily.

   ((Ket comes when Ket wants,)) I countered. ((Have you come to get away from Rugiff again?))

   “No. Ket needs to come this time.” She said with more seriousness.

   I leaped from my branch to gently land on her shoulder. My claws didn’t hurt her through tough Hork-Bajir skin. ((Why? What is it?))

   “ _Hruthin_ Ax wants to see Tobias,” She explained. “Say, ‘Please find Tobias, I would like to speak with him.’”

   She looked proud of herself to deliver such a message, but I was hesitant to provide a response. I hadn’t spoken to him for a long time, probably years. He could have at least given some clue as to the intent of the conversation he was so desperate to have.

   But I was swayed. He was family, technically. Not so alien to me as he was to everybody else. Was I so cold to just ignore his request for a talk when we’d done so much together? He’d done nothing to harm me.

   ((Where is he?)) I asked Ket, whose snout was almost jabbing against my belly.

   “Ax is at Headquarters,” She answered. “Will Tobias go?”

   ((Yeah. I’ll make it back before nightfall. Will you be back home?))

   She nodded. “Ket will be home.”

   ((I’ll drop by when I’m done.)) I replied. Then I dropped from her shoulder, straddled my branch and burst from the leaves into the cooling Autumn air.

   Headquarters was a peculiar name that the Hork-Bajir had begun to use for what was actually known as the Lava Mountain  Extra-Terrestrial Tourism Centre that had just recently been built. It must have been something the staff called it and been picked up by local residents. It was south of my home, just off Highway 26. Not difficult to find, but nor was it a short travel. Ax’s message must have been passed along a chain, who apparently all knew roughly where I lived. So long as they kept it to themselves.

   However, even if they did tell Ax my exact location, I doubted he would willingly make the trip himself. Andalites tended to stay clear of Yellowstone. I didn’t necessarily need to wonder why.

   With the ground colder during this time of year, I wasn’t getting much uplift and the long-distance flight was tiring. However, I could never grow tired of the views of my new permanent home. The mountains and the trees guided my path southwards, and I eventually spotted the gleaming roof of Headquarters among a scatter of pines. As it clutched to the last echoes of daylight, I realised that a trip back north could take me well into night time and the territory of nocturnal predators. I would not fulfil my assurance to Ket, and would have to find somewhere secure to stay. I had a rough knowledge of what birds resided in the area, and there were certain patches where my chances of a full rest were high, especially as the migration season was fast arriving.

   Ax was not hard to spot. A blue centaur in an enclosed, grassy clearing was fooling nobody, but he had deliberately moved himself away from the building for whatever reason. I had predicted it earlier in the flight, but my theory that it was no trivial discussion was now solidified. He scraped his hooves against the ground in boredom and swayed his tail lazily back and forth. When I came closer, I could distinguish his highly active stalk eyes. I saw them a long time before they saw me, but when I finally came into his range of vision he drew to me his main eyes. He knew I was no ordinary Red-Tailed Hawk.

   I landed deftly on a log that he had conveniently placed himself before and instantly began the process of self-grooming.

   ((Tobias,)) He began, voice wary and concerned. ((It’s good to see you again, my friend.))

   ((Good to see you, too, Ax-man,)) I replied. ((It’s been a while.))

   ((Approximately two Earth years,)) He said. ((I have missed you in that time. I apologise for not coming to visit you sooner.))

   ((Hey, it’s no big deal.))

   He continued, ((I felt it would be best if you made the decision to speak first, considering the manner with which you left. You seemed upset, but also like you wished for time alone. It’s something I’ve seen in Human from time to time. I couldn’t be sure, but I didn’t want to infiltrate your space.))

   ((It’s no big deal.)) I repeated.

   I finished grooming and became static on my long. I brought myself to look at him, and take in just how much he had changed. He was no longer a child, that was for sure. The visage of a war-riddled aristh had been replaced by the proud, slickened Andalite warrior, radiating a ready energy and a bristling swagger.

   ((I’ve been in training,)) He spoke, with a tone that illustrated his uncertainty of how to approach me. ((A command course, to be exact. I have learned from some of the greatest warriors of our time, and I am now a fully-qualified Prince.))

   I knew where the path was leading. The leaves had been blown from the track. ((Congrats, Ax-man,)) I said with sincerity. ((You deserve it. We wouldn’t be here without you.))

   ((I’m going to command my own ship,)) He explained with a noticeable stutter. It was his turn to avert all eyes. ((An exploration vessel called _Intrepid_. She will be tasked to seek out resourceful planets and stray Yeerk populations for extraction. This means that I will be leaving. I travel for Andal tomorrow evening.))

   ((You came to say goodbye.)) I summarised coldly. I didn’t feel hurt, nor disappointed. It felt like closure, more than anything.

   ((No, Tobias,)) He urged with a little more gusto. ((I’ll come back. I’m going to do whatever I can to occupy Earth-based roles after my duty with Intrepid is over. I’m only scheduled the role for one Earth year, and I’m sure I can convince my War-Prince.))

   I stood motionless. ((Ax, you don’t have to do that for me. Seriously, dude, I’m fine. I’m fine.))

   ((Nevertheless, I will visit you again. Tobias, my _shorm_ , I promise that.)) He raised his deathly bladed tail up into the air. A true promise.

   ((You know where I’ll be,)) I said with a humourless laugh. ((They didn’t… You don’t know where exactly I stay?))

   ((I didn’t think to ask. I certainly didn’t expect accurate directions.)) He replied with a hint of snobbishness.

   ((Toby knows,)) I said. ((If you _do_ come back, she can lead you to me. She’s much easier to find than I am.))

   That conversation slid away. Ax, having regained some composure, still fought his way through to his next words. How things had gotten so awkward between us, I would never be able to explain. I could only imagine how I would talk to any of the others, should we ever meet again. Ax was my shorm and my uncle, and yet the connection between us was very clearly rotted to bare bone.

   The words he came up with were blunt and serious. ((You can’t stay like this. I’m no expert on Human psychology, but I think I know enough to say that staying as you are isn’t good for you.))

   ((What do you mean?)) I asked, but knowing exactly what he meant.

   ((In that body, you will be lucky to last another ten Earth years. I would hate for you to die as a bird, because you are not one.))

   I said nothing.

   Ax took a purposeful step forward and he was within an arm’s reach. He held one out above me, an invitation I accepted. When I clutched my talons loosely to his arm, he watched me closely with each of his four eyes.

   ((I want to teach you something; something that I learned a long time ago. Promise me that you will use it to start a new life. You are much more than this one.))


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**_Present_ **

   The compartment shook violently to the side, as the pilot reported hitting another storm. Chains clanged, feet scraped the deck and the unlocked metal storage doors slammed to their frames, withdrawing with pitiful squeaks and groans. In the dim light, the bodies of the task force swayed back and forth as silhouettes, emotionless and cold. Not a single breath could be heard over the delicate humming of the tiny transporter built for half the number it was carrying.

   From the bridge came the thumping of four mechanical feet. The centaur-like machine that forever sustained Surote’s Yeerk body was finally ready to give us the last brief before we set out on the mission. He reached with robotic hands into a storage box, humming something tunelessly to himself.

   I heard a shuffle from Santorelli, every movement exaggerated with a crumpling by the thick protective clothing that we all had to wear, from thick material around the neck to the upper portions of the legs. He turned to Jake, as if he would have some words of inspiration of his own. But Jake continued to stare forward.

   Marco was still with us. Somehow. Menderash, too, who was finally going to get his first taste of real action, assuming things went according to plan. Upon request, he had been given permission to acquire Burr-Ammit’s DNA. He was capable of morphing Kelbrid, just like everybody else crammed into our little task force.

   I didn’t know anybody else, apart from Surote. They were introduced to us as simply Team Hook, specialists in infiltration. There were six of them from various alien races I had never come across before. A creature that stretched over eight feet tall and had the curious appearance of mutant seaweed. One that resembled a red Kangaroo with no tail and big reptilian claws. Another whose entire front was riddled with suction pads, looking like he was suffering from some real nasty skin disease. The alien sitting beside Menderash was of a race based on a planet predominantly coated in mud. His limbs ended with spatula-like feet, his body was like a smooth leather, and the top of his head was like a helmet that covered much of the face. He was blind, but with an extreme sense of smell and the ability to detect the direction of heat sources more than made up for it.

   There was one called Arkv. He stood like a bear on hind legs, with the skin and gills of a shark. A permanent membrane surrounded his head and neck, filled with water. It was filtered through a container latched onto his back. He was the leader of Team Hook.

   Surote pulled a small wristband-like device from the storage container and strapped it around his wrist. The pilot called back into the compartment, “Landing in the vicinity of Station 4.” The transporter’s constant hum lowered in pitch, and it started to vibrate as we descended at a sharper gradient.

   “Team Hook,” Surote started, loud enough to steal the attention of all. “We’ve done this many times before. Nothing new or special here. We go in, follow the plan, and we get out with as many souls as we can. Population estimate is eighty-seven self-sustaining Yeerks with no contact to any other organised body, so they will have no reinforcement. This is a mining station, and they operate only for self-preservation. They scavenge Ooguui and mine the ground for metals to fortify. With that in mind, they are not trained fighters, but they will have dangerous weapons at their disposal. We do not expect a fluid or organised response to our infiltration, but do not let yourselves fall to complacency.”

   Arkv took the small pause in Surote’s brief to insert a question. His voice was muffled lightly by his watery mask. “What races are we to expect?”

   “Expect the following:” Surote said. “Gedd, Oo, Mak, Pject, Hork-Bajir, Taxxon, Verg and Nahara. Nothing particularly threatening, and it is likely that the hosts and weak and malnourished. Take care when paralysing. Humans.”

   We were already paying attention when he addressed us specifically. We waited for his instruction.

   “You have been shown how to operate the paralysis guns. You are here with us to bolster the team as we face a larger number than usual. Stick to the plan: Remain in line, do not break rank if the situation escalates. Aim to stun, and wherever possible avoid the killing of the adversaries. We are here on a rescue mission, Yeerk and host. Fruyt has spare paralysis gun ammunition. If you are out of ammo, go to him. Do _not_ resort to other means.”

   “Understood.” Jake replied, speaking for us all.

   Surote nodded. “If we stick to the plan, we save lives here. We don’t destroy them. Since there is no outside contact for this mining station, we are under no obligation to enter in morph. Keep your eyes on each other, and we go home happy. Are there any questions?”

   Jake raised a hand. “What’s the policy on morphing?”

   “Use at your own discretion,” He answered. “If it aids the mission, I have no issue. Just make sure you spend no more than three hours under mask. Any problems, head to Fruyt. We shouldn’t be here that long, anyway. Any more questions?”

   “Yeah, I got one,” Santorelli called out, an eager grin on his cheeks. “When do we start this ass-kickin’?!”

   It didn’t get the intended reaction. Where his usual informal bravado would offer a final lift before entering a scene, it left a glaring silence from Team Hook and some awkward, wary glances. Surote, far from impressed, clanked forward to Santorelli’s seated position and darted his eyes at the increasing alienated Ranger.

   “The only ass being kicked will be yours,” Surote seethed. “If you do not take this mission with the seriousness it deserves. Now shut your flat Human mouth and get your gun.”

   Santorelli bolted up, outraged but also out of line. “You just fuckin’ try, slug!”

   Jake was immediately on the case, jumping up and grabbing Santorelli’s arm roughly before he could crack Surote’s metallic frame. Marco was half-up, ready to provide extra strength to hold him back.

   “Let it go!” Jake urged him. He was having a hard time restraining him, but Santorelli was just calm enough to refrain from throwing a punch. His jaw and fists were clenched, and his eyes burning with violent desire, but it was safe.

   “Sit down!” Surote bellowed, completely unfettered. “Know your place! Don’t _ever_ confront me again!”

   Santorelli wasn’t a stupid man. Not academic, but he had a good degree of common sense. Despite his history with Yeerks and utter hatred for them, he was quick to measure the pros and cons of picking a fight with the mysterious Surote. He slowly, shakily sat back down and averted his eyes to look the other way. Surote watched him for a good few seconds, and then proceeded back to the head of the compartment.

   “Get ready. We leave immediately.”

   Team Hook finally started to make noise after a journey of almost complete muteness. They got up and each grabbed their paralysis guns, adjusted their squeaky, crumply protective clothing.

   “Ammo at the ready,” Arkv  ordered boldly. “Proceed to Point of Action 1 in formation. Be on alert and don’t disappoint me like last time!”

   “Geez,” Marco groaned quietly as our inexperienced portion of the team tested our one-size-fits-literally-all kit and located our weapons. “Somebody didn’t get any birthday cards this year, huh.”

   “He’s gonna get my boot in his mouth if he’s not careful.” Santorelli growled, all boisterousness vanished from his tone.

   Jake twisted sharply and glared at him. He clearly was not impressed by Santorelli’s momentary rebellion. “I get it, man. I do. But don’t.”

   Santorelli, as frustrated as he could get, wasn’t one to forget his place. “Apologies, boss.”

   And that was that. No sulking, no more whining. He grabbed his paralysis gun – a shimmering, boomerang-shaped object with looping metal bars from loading port to barrel looping over the top – in both hands and attempted a practise aim. He was readier than ever.

   Before we could leave, and just as the regulars of the team were heading forward, Fruyt, the brown mud-burrowing alien, approached with a spatula-hand filled of small cubes. It was the ammo that we needed. One by one, they were taken and placed into weapons. But Fruyt had something else for us.

   He spoke with a raspy, monotone voice, quietened beneath the large helmet that covered his head. “You _don’t_ mess this up for us. It’s bad enough that we have to speak your language to accommodate you. Don’t make the journey back more painful than the journey here, because you _really_ don’t want that.”

   It was a not-so-subtle stab at Marco. We all had language implants, but Marco’s refusal to take one meant that the whole team had to speak our specific language. It was the biggest source of tension from the get-go.

   Watching it all unfold, it was hard not to forget that I was a part of it. I had no weapon, but a more specific, and dare I say it more predictable role. I was the birds-eye view, of course. Somebody had to do it.

   I did have my own protective clothing, though. Somehow, it didn’t make me feel any safer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

   The transporter landed in the haze of the Ooguui landscape. The wind blew fiercely, whipping claws of sand through the air that buffeted my body as soon as I swooped from the exit compartment. Team Hook marched in single file, checked one-by-one by Surote as they left the security of the vessel. He followed the line behind Marco when all but the pilot had left, and the motley collection proceeded through the dense sandstorm in a northerly direction. It really wasn’t comfortable, but I shot ahead to locate the wall of the mining station, doing what I could to deter the flying debris from my eyes.

   The transporter had landed no more than fifty metres from the closest wall, but it did not become visible until about twenty. When it did, the oval shape emerged high above, protecting against the weather but very little else. I flew in close, and got the slightest relief from the storm when I dropped to the loose dirt on the ground. I pressed myself close to the surface as the rest arrived. They organised a circle, with Surote the last to arrive.

   “Point of Action 1!” He shouted against the hurtling wind. “Prepare the sound shield!”

   The big seaweed alien pulled from his belt a thick metal stick. He played around with it, expertly curling his fingers around its surface until its base glowed a barely-noticeable red. Nothing else would seem to happen to anybody uneducated on its purpose, but what it did was form an invisible barrier around us that prevented the escape of a large range of sound waves. We were entirely silent to the world outside of it, and that included the wall we were about to slice open. Arkv was helping another member of Hook remove a heavy tool from its casing, a monstrous turret that tapered vertically to a sharp, flat surface. They placed it to the wall, and Arkv stepped back for Fruyt to take his place. With two people holding it, the cutter was quickly activated, unleashing a horrible grinding that could only be heard within our secure sound bubble. The metal of the wall around the tool glowed a heated red. They gradually raised it, leaving beneath scarred, broken metal. It went five feet up, then five feet across and all the way back down. The power to the tool was cut, and the newly-created door dropped forward into the darkness of the interior.

   “Breached.” Arkv reported after a long stare into the abyss.

   “Enter,” Surote replied. “Stay in form. Don’t drift. Our safety is paramount.”

   Arkv waved a hand instructively to us and, in our pre-planned order, we crawled in through the low hole. Kv-Aret-Cukku Et, the seaweed alien, was the first line of defence, blending in seamlessly to the dark. The rest formed a semi-circle around the entrance, until we heard the call back, “Clear.”

   As the eyes of the operation, I was next. I opened up my wings to face the wind, and allowed the unpleasant blow of sand push me up into the air. I was lifted ten feet into the air, and I dipped to the right to swerve outwards and gather some momentum. At a safe distance I turned again, and shot straight down towards the hole. Surote ducked to his left, and I zoomed shakily over his head and then straight inside. At first it was total darkness, but my eyes adjusted at the same time that various forms of lighting came into view. The ceiling was incredibly high, but lined with bulbs that had no issue laying white blurry circles across the wide open floor. Along the left wall, like the bleakest art gallery, was a series of enormous green rectangular blobs, the faintest signs of swirling liquid held within. I saw no enemies.

   Now, I was out of the soundproof barrier, so I had to be cautious as to the noise I was making. After my initial cursory glance, I swerved back in the still, windless air. Looking down, I watched the rest creeping inside, forming a second semi-circle on this side of the wall with weapons raised outwards. Fruyt, who would remain at the rear throughout, replaced the collapsed section of wall and through our medical kit over his shoulder. Surote’s eyes bolted to me immediately, and he flicked a finger in the forward direction. I flapped my wings hard and rose high toward the ceiling, keeping well clear of any bulbs that would cast my silhouette across the ground. In the dingy open hall of this section, I had to locate the enemies.

   I remained hidden against the black ceiling. The hall was vast, but much of it was hidden by rotund sections of wall that curved from the edges and towards the centre, giving many places to hide for anybody who may have suspected our entry. It meant that I had to be deliberate with my movement, and I stuck close to the edges, dipping between the protruding segments just enough to see right into the shadows at the bottom. From what I saw, we weren’t alone, and I also got a good look at the few entrances to the hall.

   I reported back as concisely as Surote liked. ((Two Mak, two Oo. Both Mak are approximately forty metres from your position, behind the first wall on your left. One Oo is at the far end, approximately eighty metres. You will be in his sight eight metres ahead of your current postion. The second Oo is beside the main door, at ninety-degrees from the centre. There is a second door exactly ahead, ninety metres. No weapons seen.))

   Surote allowed Arkv to take control, stepping to the side and prepping his paralysis gun. Arkv threw up some simplistic hand signals that got everybody shifting to the right, opposite to the wall of the two Mak. Still within their sound shield, they made absolutely no noise as they crept against the curving surface, giving them maximum space while still avoiding the oblivious senses of the Oo at the far side of the room.

   Arkv raised a hand to my friends, who had clumped together at the rear with Fruyt. He was saying something, and from the sight of them lowering their weapons slightly, I could only imagine that they’d been told to leave these four to the experts. This was going to be a lesson.

   He signalled to one of the others: The smallest of our group, a member of the Brou’gn race, handed its paralysis gun to Arkv. Brou’gn weren’t too impressive to look at, being only four or five feet tall with stumpy little arms and a squat, humpbacked stance. Their mouth was wide and flat, making its head look like a Pac-man, only green in colour and with two round, unblinking eyes just above the neck. It wasn’t going to startle the Oo, which was in contrast a grey gangly creature with four spider-like legs and a very straight, narrow snout coated with teeth all the way around.

   The Brou’gn –who, so far as we knew, had no name or gender – waddled out into the open, unarmed and posing as a dazzled, lost civilian. It stepped out of the sound barrier, made obvious when its footsteps suddenly became audible, and then made way past the wall and into the eyeline of the Oo.

   The Oo froze momentarily. Untrained and unarmed, the simple mining Yeerk would hopefully take the bait, no questions asked. I saw the walkie-talkie at his side, but his spider claws made no track for it.

   I kept my height high overhead, remained clear of the lighting. I could see the reactions of each enemy: The confusion of one Oo, the lack of interest from the other and the total ignorance from the two Mak.

   The Oo gave way to curiosity. He crept forward with all four legs, tooth-coated snout close to the ground. The other Oo called something out gutturally, but still seemed disinterested. Unlike the first, he could not see the Brou’gn, and nor did he attempt to observe what his peer had.

   Arkv was static as he watched the Brou’gn. He waited for the signal, weapon poised and his other hand raised as a red light for the others. The moment was coming…

   “What are _you_?” The Oo demanded of the Brou’gn.

   The was no time for an answer. Arkv’s hand dropped, sending his team towards the Mak at pace. He bounded forward, around the side of the blocking wall and raised his gun to eyeline. The Oo jumped, panicked, but has no time whatsoever to do anything else. Arkv fired, and with a cute chink a dart was fired directly to his chest. He convulsed, swayed, and then collapsed to his front. Arkv reloaded his weapon, pushing out the ammo cube and sending another looping forward into position.

   I saw the remaining three enemies bolt up, now fully alert to the danger they were in. The second Oo was much too far to be dealt with any time soon, and I caught sight of the walkie-talkie at his side. I had to get rid of it.

   The two Mak, however, were easier targets. Arkv’s team were mere metres away when they turned the corner to see what all the commotion was. In a split, second, they too were down, pulsing on the ground. Paralysed.

   The second Oo had enough time to consider the situation. It was only a matter of time before he raised the alarm. I twisted in the air, dipped forward and tucked my wings close. I dropped towards him like a bullet, eyes fixated on the walkie-talkie that his awkward claw scrambled for.

   He raised it up to his mouth. I saw him inhale.

   My talons reached forward, and with great speed I grappled the boxy object, tearing it from his weak grasp. I rose back into the air, disappearing again to the backdrop of the wall.

   Surote was bounding forward as the Oo attempted to decide what the hell had just happened. He saw Surote, and was faced with a difficult choice: Flight, or fight the mechanic monstrosity fast approaching.

   He chose incorrectly. He rushed ahead with a frightening screech, but Surote was already well-prepared. He also had a secret weapon. I’d certainly never seen it before.

   When the distance between them shrank to little more than three metres, the air abruptly flashed! Bolts of electricity shot directly from Surote’s midriff, coating the Oo in a terrifying, blinding electric veil. He moaned horribly, but only for the couple seconds that the immense discharge lasted. When it finished, he collapsed. His chest rose and fell slowly.

   Surote looked pleased, but his first action was not to self-congratulate or cheer for the minor victory. He bent down to the fallen Oo, and brushed a hand gently over his shoulder.

   “Prepare for a better future.” He whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

   The fallen Yeerks were dragged to Point of Action 1, where Fruyt ensured they would remain immobile by injecting them with a long-lasting general anaesthetic. The rest of the team worked to secure the entrances to the space, blocking off the smaller of the doors and placing alert sentries on the larger which would lead through to the main bulk of the facility. I had landed on Jake’s shoulder, allowing my wings a break, and watched the group in operation. Unscathed and brimming with adrenaline, the focus shifted to the next stage hurriedly.

   “The area is secure.” Arkv reported dutifully to the contemplative Surote.

   “Then we move,” He insisted. “We are done in here.”

   Arkv nodded and started calling to his troops. Everybody was ordered to the main door, where the sentries dropped back into the re-grouping formation. The more experienced members looked somewhat more confident, but Arkv took our lot aside for a few extra words of motivation.

   He stood between us and the other aliens, just a little shorter than Jake. “That was a typical exercise. It may get busier from this point onwards, but the same principles apply: Follow my orders, keep your focus, and don’t be the hero. We get all that right, and we celebrate with _Trih_ fruit tonight.”

   “Understood,” Jake said. “But I’m going to get some of us into battlemorph. Back-up.”

   Arkv narrowed his slanted yellow eyes, distorted by the thin veil of water around his head. “Back-up…” He repeated.

   “I don’t want to take chances,” Jake explained. “I’m concerned about an ambush, and I want us to be better prepared. We need stronger bodies, more capable.”

   The request received little more reaction from Arkv. He stared for a short while, and then turned to begin the operation. It wasn’t a no.

   Jake took his place as centrepiece. “Two of us will morph now. Sarge and Mendy. Everybody else stick close-by and be prepared for an order to go full battlemorph. On that cue, _everybody_ morphs.”

   Santorelli and Menderash handed their weapons and ammo over, before stepping back to commence morphing. Their choices were obvious. Santorelli would use the brutish, powerful ox, and Menderash would utilise his only battle-capable morph, the wolf.

   Surote was making his last rounds, checking the troops for readiness. He came to us last and gawked at the half-morphed members. His robotic eyes blinked and reluctantly accepted the action, but not without a word to Jake. “I don’t see this as anything close to necessity. For your own safety, it’s fine, but you must remember why we’re here.”

   Jake nodded, his hair brushing against my wing. “We remember.”

   “And you,” He continued, focusing now on me. “Good job earlier. You will continue to be our lookout, but we expect the space to be less accommodating from this point on. Be careful.”

   Fruyt took his place by the door control panel as everybody took their positions at either side, ready to embrace a fight lurking on the other side. Santorelli and Menderash waited at the back with the order to restrain themselves until the extra firepower was required.

   “Now.” Arkv grunted.

   Fruyt pressed down on the panel. The movement of the door began with an industrial hum, and then a bang as the locks shot away, allowing the big metal surface to steadily rise upwards. We kept ourselves out of the way as it sent its roars down the narrow, round tunnel, where the potential enemies waited for the invasion. All eyes focused of Arkv, prepared for his signal with itchy fingers massaging triggers. When the big door slammed to a halt, and he was satisfied, a flick of his stumpy tail gave us our cue. The first four of the team swivelled to face down the tunnel, whose walls reflected a gorgeous gold from the single line of lighting that ran down the centre of the rounded ceiling. They maintained their ready postures as they slowly, quietly stepped forward and into the unknown depths. The rest of us followed in a zigzag formation, keeping down and close to the sides.

   Santorelli couldn’t be quiet. Jake realised the error when big clunky hoofsteps bombarded out ears. “Sarge!” He whispered. “Stay back here. Be ready for our call!”

   ((Got it, boss!)) He replied with false enthusiasm. He never enjoyed being left out of a scrap.

   The tunnel was long and straight, which definitely didn’t suit our needs. The exit of the tunnel was clearly visible, and it opened to a brightened area filled with the noise of operational machinery. There were voices, distinctly alien but some of which were eerily familiar. Arkv, front and centre, was keeping our pace down, but I could see his confliction even from the shadows of Jake’s shoulder. He knew that our position was a weak one. When a Hork-Bajir walked casually past the end of the tunnel, he brought us to a complete stop. He knelt down, turned, and whispered over to Kv-Aret-Cukku Et.

   Et made a quick adjustment to his weapon, and took from its underside a small rounded projectile. He placed it delicately into the loader of his gun, and reloaded, sending the projectile to the barrel. Then he took aim and fired. The sound was little more than a click from where we sat, but his target – a glass surface that stared back at us from the far end of the busy room – cracked hauntingly, white crooked spider legs cascading outwards. There were yells and barks, and a cluster of Yeerks in various bodies jogged over with concern. All attention was away from the tunnel, and we were given the signal to mover. Faster.

   Arkv and Et arrived at the end of the tunnel and simultaneously looked around the corners. They signalled no Yeerks, meaning that the seven workers investigating the mysteriously cracked were all that we faced. They were clumped together, and that was about as good as it could get. With that realisation, Arkv gave the sudden signal.

   I leapt from Jake’s shoulder as he raised his body to run. The whole formation, bar Menderash, lurched forward to occupy the noisy industrial room. I zoomed through what remained of the tunnel and then straight up to the ceiling, probably ten metres from the floor. I wasn’t going to go unseen this time.

   The Yeerks were dumbfounded to see our platoon charging in. They yelled and screamed, but none did anything other than flail about in sudden panic. A Hork-Bajir, three Gedds, two Pject and a Naharan. One potential threat, but thankfully the Hork-Bajir was the first darted, just as the others decided it best to disperse and look for any means of defence.

   I had little to report, really. The team quickly began to take down the small, unarmed Yeerk group. It was interesting to see that Surote’s people held back, and in fact I only saw the Brou’gn stun the Hork-Bajir. The rest was left to us Animorphs, as if we had been given a chance to practise.

   The Gedds were the slowest, but also seemingly the most aggressive. One charged directly for Marco, but was impeded by its natural lop-sided gait. Marco took his time to aim, eye down the barrel of his gun, and delivered a dart to the left arm. The Gedd stumbled, groaned, and collapsed in a clumsy heap. One of the other Gedds was quick to locate a piece of metal piping, but was darted in the back of the neck before it could turn around to threaten by Jake.

   Disorientated and panicked, they were dropping in mere seconds. The Naharan – a bipedal rat-like alien with three lengthy tails and a toothless mouth – attempted to climb a wall to safety, the reason for which was unclear. When Marco finally shot it after two misses, the fall back to the ground was enough for it to bounce another four feet into the air. Surote chastised Marco bluntly for his poor aim.

   The final Gedd and the Pject made a run for the entrance to the far right. Jake was somewhat more accurate than Marco, with one miss and a hit to bring the Gedd crashing to the ground. The beetle-looking alien with eerily Human arms, called a Pject by Surote, was gaining ground though, and Marco’s latest attempt missed. The Pject was outrunning them, speeding for the next tunnel that would descend further into the base and to possible reinforcement.

   I had an opportunity to help. I was faster than an overgrown, clumsy beetle, and I could cut off its course in no time. I bent my wings and aimed for the perfect swerve. I was going to spook it into a new direction.

   I caught the air approached at an inward angle. I saw the tiny black face of the Pject, gasping as it expended its very limited energy. It came closer, at such high speeds.

   The Pject looked up to see me, hurtling like a missle directly to him. He turned on spindly legs and headed back the way he came. I’d diverted his path as intended, and sent him right back into paralysis gun fire.

   The job done, I had to drain momentum and come to a steady stop. It used to be so easy…

   An ache spread over my wings, and it flushed into my back. Not pain, just a twinge, an indication that something just wasn’t quite right. I stuttered in the air, almost tumbled into the floor. With luck I managed to keep airborne, but I couldn’t rise. I simply couldn’t!

   The wall ahead of me beckoned like a massive black hammer to come down on my fragile head. I gave up on turning upwards. It was hopeless. I twisted sideways and violently changed direction. With that change went the preponderance of momentum, and I was able to inelegantly bounce onto the floor and eventually bring myself to a halt.

   Thankfully, nothing came of it. But it worried me.

   The Pject had been dealt with despite my issue that had gone apparently unnoticed. Arkv sent sentries to guard the doors at the moment we knew the job was done, and Surote rushed over to the unconscious, fallen Naharan.

   He glanced over the body, and Fruyt caught up to join him. Then Surote turned to stare directly at Marco, who was wiping a thin layer of sweat from his forehead, brought on by the excess heat and the onrush of adrenalin. Surote made a strange, minutely distorted robotic squeal, and his head jerked to the side. His left arm twitched.

   It was like the tiniest malfunction. It was bizarre.

   “This Naharan has broken her leg!” Surote growled once he’d stopped jolting. “Take your time with your shots, and such injuries may not occur!”

   Marco was so tempted to roll his eyes and shrug it off. I could tell. Instead, he said, “Sorry, my bad,” and left it at that. He’d seen so much worse than broken legs before. He’d had his own guts ripped from his torso on multiple occasions. He’d torn enemies in half and cracked skulls like they were monkey nut casings. A broken leg was a minor inconvenience.

   Nevertheless, Surote was irritated by the host’s injury, and insisted that Fruyt apply first aid before we moved deeper into the station. Once he knew that the Naharan was being cared for, Santorelli and Menderash had arrived, and the doors leading to our area had been temporarily blocked, he addressed us.

   “Not perfect,” He started. “But that’s to be expected. We held back there for your benefit, and you got the job done well. I believe you are capable of continuing this mission without our restraints. Just remember what we have told you. Things are bound to get busier further inside.”

   “They didn’t have any weapons,” Jake explicated. “Or guards. They aren’t prepared for this at all.”

   “That’s not to say we should let ourselves grow complacent.” Surote replied.

   “Of course not.”

   Meanwhile, Menderash, still in his wolf body, had been assessing our new location, and it prompted me to do the same. There was a lot more machinery in here, and a section at one end dotted with great metal silos. Pipes sprang all over the ceiling, carrying with them a consistently humming of pressurised gas and steam. A conveyor belt transporting piles of rubble churned happily from one end of the room to the other, with workstations delegated lonely positions along each side. It fed into a bulky contraption at the end of the line, the fate of the broken rock left without detail. Elsewhere was the large glass pane we had cracked to cause a distraction. It was part of the piping system, and the glass guarded an empty, reinforced chamber within. There were two small entry ports to the chamber, with a busy control panel at each.

   ((I’ve never seen a mining system like this,)) Menderash concluded curiously to Surote. ((Not in Yeerk hands.))

   Surote looked over to the great glass chamber, following Menderash’s stare. Then he invited us silently to walk closer. But not too close.

   He placed a lifeless hand up to the origin of the crack, where the round bullet had burst. He felt the air, twisted his wrist joints. “It’s an Ooguui system. An unusual one, but nothing unfamiliar,” He summarised nonchalantly. “Do not come any closer to this chamber. The gases inside are incredibly toxic. Poison. It is leaking, but just barely. The air here shall swallow it.”

   Nobody was willing to test the theory for themselves, so we happily stayed back. I retook my perch back on Jake’s shoulder and adjusted my recovering muscles. They still didn’t feel right.

   “What are these things?”

   It was Marco’s voice. Past Jake’s hair I could see him at one of the control panels. He was holding a small capsule of some kind. White and inoffensive. There was a whole container of them joined to the toxic gas chamber.

   “Put that down!” Surote huffed. “Do you Humans always have to touch before asking?”

   Marco dropped the capsule back down and raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Just curious is all…”

   Surote marched on over, clearly growing ever more annoyed with Marco’s nature. “These are compressed air capsules used for chamber clearance. Exposure to acid causes the air inside to burst outwards at high pressure and clear toxins. They are incredibly dangerous. As with most equipment here.”

   He reached out a hand and tapped the back of a finger against one of the pipes leading to the chamber. By his finger was a symbol: Two red, barbed tentacles encircling one another. It didn’t take a genius to glean what kind of stuff was in there.

   “Do not break one of these pipes,” Surote warned. “I won’t be bringing your body home if you do.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

   We reformed and continued, stepping slowly and lightly down the next major vein of the Yeerk facility. There were another seventy-to-eighty potential enemies in the facility, and Surote’s intention was to clear every single one. Where they were was a mystery, but we’d coped capably up to that point and Arkv was confident of getting the job done soon. Santorelli and Menderash, still in morph, were a few metres back from the rest of the group, and I had also been relegated to ride along on Santorelli’s back.

   The churnings of machinery and clanging of lively tools grew uncomfortably loud. We came to understand that the next hall over was highly active, either with automatic mining machines or a numerous workforce. Arkv was keeping his team right to the sides and as quiet as possible. Santorelli was sent even further back to reduce the noise of his hooves.

   The entrance to the hall was closed, giving us an annoying issue to contend with. We parked steps away from it and listened out for signs of life on the other side. There were many.

   Arkv scuttled to the opposite side of the tunnel and scanned the wall to find the control panel. “Cluster formation,” He whispered. “Expect numbers. Do not allow breaching.”

   We broke our approach form and moved tighter together, a compact circle that, once engaged, would look outwards for a full three-sixty defence. Barring an ambush, we had a good shot of completing the task without issue. I and the two in morph, however, would be left as back-up. We weren’t needed unless called upon.

   There came voices from beyond the door. They approached, became louder, and then started to fade as their owners walked away.

   It was our time. Arkv barked and slammed the panel. He dove back into the bracing formation as the big industrial door buzzed and sluggishly ascended. We heard no reaction from the other side.

   “Go!”

   The circle formation bundled forward. Some members had to bend down to get under the slowly rising door, but they were in. I felt Santorelli buzz beneath me, eager to see some action.

   I watched as they began to fire. They fired a lot. I saw enemies of all kinds in the far distance, slow but eager to defend their home. Darts flew, the sound of screams and limp bodies falling filled the air.

   Surote, at the rear of the circle, called over. “Tobias, they have no weapons! Fly for us!”

   I dropped from the ox’s back and soared forward at the invitation. Lifting up, I flew high up over the group that was splitting their circle to form a blockade around the entrance. They were silent in their frantic assault, and all the screams and yells were coming from the terrified Yeerks. About eight of them, mostly Gedds. They were quickly being dealt with.

   But there was one… he was screeching down a handheld device. I couldn’t stop him, and nor did anybody else until after he’d spread word.

   ((He got message out.)) I warned.

   “Hold position!” Arkv ordered. He was heading the new formation, a semi-circle broken by the entrance. “Morphed Humans, keep watch of the rear, be prepared for a surprise attack!”

   I took the moment to observe the surroundings. It was a loud, busy room. In one corner was the main drilling entrance, an excavated hole in the ground with conveyor belts straddling the sides. Nearby was the drill, a behemoth of black metal with a deadly pointed tip, webbed by electrical cables like strands of wet hair behind it. They connected to a labyrinth of generators in an unprotected block. Elsewhere, a wide, empty conveyor belt made slow progress to a shimmering cylindrical crusher. The pipes containing toxins led to and away from it, reaching from ceiling to ground everywhere around us.

   There were three other entrances, two large doors and one small. It could be only moments before the Yeerks came pouring in. Would they have weapons? Hork-Bajir?

   Two simultaneous bangs from both the larger doors! They began to rise, and Team Hook steadied their position for the inevitable attack. I kept my eyes glued to the opening doors, averting my eyes from left to right and back again. There didn’t seem to be anything there…

   I ran out of space heading forward and turned left before I came too close to the wall. The turn took me back towards the others, and the sight turned my blood cold.

   Big yellow centipedes squeezing out of the wall above the door, wiggling and emerging from narrow black holes like writhing larva. They squirmed in silence, but sharp claws and drooling jaws would descend right onto static prey!

   ((Taxxons!)) I shouted. ((They’re coming out of the walls!))

   They started to fall like thick sludge, dripping behind the wall that Arkv had orchestrated. Up they stood, six feet off the ground with screeching, hungry mouths.

   Everybody turned, suddenly alert to the proximate danger. Four Taxxon. Five. Six! They infiltrated the tight blockade in such close proximity, lunges away from a deadly blow. It brought instant reaction. Bodies spun on the spot, weapons at the ready.

   “Spread!” Arkv screamed. “Take aim! No wayward shots!”

   Marco fired a dart at a shifting Taxxon. The projectile skimmed the skin and shot by, almost catching Et in the shoulder. Et shouted angrily his distaste, and Arkv reiterated his order with more fury.

   A Taxxon lunged at Fruyt, slapping claws and gnashing for a meal. Fruyt dodged, barging against Marco and breaking the line. Fruyt struck with his weapon and scrambled away. A dart hit the back of the Taxxon and it started to sway, but before it could collapse on its own accord, another Taxxon dropped down, crushing the other beneath with a horrible _squealch_!

   “Sarge! Mendy!”

   Jake had called them, and things were about to get a whole lot worse. Pounding hooves echoed down the tunnel and the huffing of a living steam train. The ox bounded from the entrance and right into the back of an unaware Taxxon. Horns impaled, and the ox emerged on the other side, blinded by innards. With momentum he continued, knocking allies roughly to the side before he attempted to skid to a halt.

   The Yeerks had a plan. They weren’t going to be taken so easily. Distracted by the falling Taxxons, Hook were much less prepared for what awaited them in the two other entrances to the hall. As panic erupted in a flurry of darts and shouts, the spreading and breaking of the formation, the rest of the Yeerk cavalry arrived.

   Hork-Bajir and Oo came sprinting, bursting from the dark tunnels with blades and claws flashing.

   “Keep your focus!” Arkv boomed, swivelling to see the oncoming force. “Keep in line for the Hork-Bajir!”

   Jake and Marco were almost in blind panic, so vulnerable in small Human bodies. Jake dashed from the front of a Taxxon, and for the first time managed to dart one from close range, but that was nothing compared to what was coming. He made the call. “Battlemorphs! Into battlemorphs!”

   Menderash pounced before him, and Marco rushed to join Jake at the rear. They backed slowly into the tunnel with Menderash growling and snapping their defence. They started to morph, and quickly, as the small army of Hork-Bajir and Oo engaged the highly advanced but restrained ensemble. Darts flew like arrows, catching their targets more often than not.

   And then there was Santorelli, much less forgiving. He snorted, scraped at the ground and rumbled forward like a barrel down a hill. A stunned Hork-Bajir took the full brunt of his momentum and a horn to the abdomen. It crumpled and fell beneath his stamping hooves.

   “Keep control!” Surote bellowed desperately. I saw his head twitching, coated in Taxxon goo. His weapon trembled in his grasp.

   Santorelli wasn’t going to stop. He was deep into the mass of enemies, ploughing through them like they weren’t even there.

   He couldn’t keep it up. I saw red blood splattered over his back. With Menderash protecting Jake and Marco, and everybody else determined to hold position, I would have to lend my help, no matter how limited. I began my descent, watchful of the frantic Hork-Bajir and Oo that dropped one-by-one. It wasn’t quick enough to stop their spread.

   Santorelli caught another Hork-Bajir solidly between his horns. The Hork-Bajir flopped over him, winded and paralysed by the impact, but Santorelli didn’t stop. He kept moving, unaware of the block of generators directly in his path. With a terrible bang the Hork-Bajir was pressed into a jumble of live cables. Blades sheared the protective casing, and just as Santorelli was aware enough to jump back, the block was engulfed into an explosion of electricity and sparks that lit up the entire hall.

   Surote squealed something mechanical, twitched, but then found the time to stomp forward and put an Oo deftly out of action with a shot of his own weapon. “Remember the mission. We must keep control!”

   The raging ox, stunned by the blast it had unintentionally caused, span and kicked in place to ward off an ambitious Oo who wanted to claim a kill. A foot nearly took its head off and it was flung backwards across the floor. I saw another one approaching, attempting to catch Santorelli off-guard.

   He hadn’t seen it, too caught up in the red mist that had swallowed his ox brain, but I had the perfect opportunity to act. I turned to come in line, aimed straight for the face of the oncoming Oo.

   It saw me too late. I dove, raked my talons forward and sunk them messily into squishy, vulnerable eyes. The Oo screamed out hoarsely and swiped at me, trying to snatch my talons but only working to pull his own eyeballs almost to complete removal from their sockets. Before it could think of a logical reaction, I released my grip and swerved downwards, and then upwards away from the carnage, dodging a wild throw of the nearest Hork-Bajir’s blades.

   Only then did I see the flash of black and orange. Jake and Marco had joined the scrap. It was no longer a rescue mission.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

   “Reform!” Arkv thundered. “Reform!”

   It was infinitely easier said than done. The Yeerks were still pouring in, and it wouldn’t be long before the entire facility was present. They were determined to defend their home against the invaders, no matter what the intentions. There were Gedds, Naharans, Ssstram, and…

   He appeared behind a wall of onrushing Taxxons, wielding a hefty blunt tool with eager motive to use it. Jake, brandishing his deadly tiger morph, didn’t see the Human until the last moment, claws ready to attack. Before the knockout blow was introduced, he ducked and almost toppled, bouncing against the flimsy body of a nearby Taxxon.

   ((Human!)) He yelped in our heads. ((There are Humans here!))

   The Taxxon Jake had rebounded from twisted to bring its gaping mouth down on the tiger’s neck, but Jake span and whipped out a hammer-like paw. He caught the Taxxons face, and ripped from it two blood-red eyes. He immediately turned his attention to the indecisive Human, and with a more subtle knock took him out of the question. But he wouldn’t have time to drag the man away from danger. Not yet.

   It was becoming a bloodbath, and I found little opportunity to assist without it being almost certainly suicidal. The reformation that Arkv insisted on simply wasn’t going to happen, and even he was beginning to see that. Team Hook, however, maintained their position and expertly took down opponents one after the other like clockwork. Us Animorphs were creating a working, if violent distraction.

   Surote was practically having a fit. His orders were garbled, his stance uneasy. He would twitch and jolt at random, utterly repulsed at every trickle of blood that flowed, and by now it was almost a river.

   The Yeerks were disorganised, confused and quite frankly useless at battle. Even the Hork-Bajir, the main shock troops of the Empire when it was in force, were clumsy and weak. They looked tired and malnourished. Despite outnumbering us, the Yeerks seemed much more likely to take themselves out than any of us. I watched on from above, picking out opportunities to aid whenever they infrequently came along, and I saw Menderash weaving deftly through alien bodies. A Hork-Bajir and a Gedd pounced him from either side, but he evaded cleanly, and the Gedd was fatally impaled on the outstretched knee of the Hork-Bajir, a garbled screech that last noise it would make.

   It was the hell I had gotten so used to long ago. Blood mottled the floor in all different shades, bodies slipping and sliding over it as gruesome ice skaters in a desperate last act. In the air, I felt so undeservedly safe while the others took turns to pick out horrible little memories to take home and hoard. Undeservedly protected by distance while they were sliced and slammed in a panicked pit of Yeerks.

   My chance to intervene arrived. Santorelli had found some space near the large roller crusher, gobbling hungrily at the moving conveyor belt. On purple blood, his hooves finally met their match, and the giant ox went over heavily onto its side. He scrambled, but exhausted and bulky, it was more of a struggle than would be comfortable. From the mess of scrambling, hobbling Yeerks in the centre of the hall, one Hork-Bajir saw the fall, and in it an opportunity. I saw her head turn, the momentary pause of consideration. I could see the intent, and I had to act. Nobody else had noticed.

   I powered my wings once more, and felt the light aching in the joints. Tiredness, I thought, and nothing more. I could put it aside and reap the torturous rewards later. Santorelli’s life was infinitely more important. I thrust forward, turning through the air in search for precision, the perfect aerial attack.

   ((Sarge!)) I shouted. ((Hork-Bajir coming your way!))

   His hooves slapped at the slick ground, struggling for purchase with weakened legs. He saw the Hork-Bajir as she finally made up her mind. She bounded forward, blades slashing violently in the air.

   I had one opportunity. Miss, and Santorelli was a goner. I couldn’t live with that on my conscience. Even if it meant…

   The Hork-Bajir saw me, turned her snake-like neck to look directly at me. Our sights connected, and at that moment my head hesitated, panicked to debate at that pivotal moment! Precision was lost, my talons refused to pierced, and I bumped pathetically against the side of the Hork-Bajir’s head, tumbling gracelessly to the bloodied floor.

   I cursed my own indecisiveness and returned to my feet to take wing once again and escape the dangerous ground level. I flapped once, and sharp pain rattled my wings. I squawked, gathered myself and tried again. The burn halted everything, and I came to realise that I wasn’t going to get airborne. I had to run!

   But I was never going to outrun a Hork-Bajir, and my backfired attempt to blind the female wasn’t about to go unpunished. I managed five short steps before the big green claws wrapped around my fragile body, squeezing one wing to my belly while the other flapped pointlessly to one side. I was yanked up from the ground at speed and in bludgeoning agony throughout my back, crumpled by the contours of a Hork-Bajir palm.

   Then the world around me shunted forwards. The Hork-Bajir holding me was barged uncompromisingly into the side of the conveyor belt, and me with it! I was an inch from the squeaking, churning belt for a moment, before the grip on me was lost and I fell back down to the floor. I scrambled with all limbs to move away. When I looked back, I saw a black, leathery fist retreating from the bleeding belly of the Hork-Bajir. She struck again, but weakened, the blow was dodged, and an open gorilla palm thrust her head forcefully beneath the conveyor belt and into the rollers. Several blistering clangs, and the Hork-Bajir went limp.

   ((Fly, you idiot!)) Marco blasted. ((You almost got yourself killed!))

   ((I can’t! It’s my wings!))

   Marco took an alert note of his surroundings, and grunted in apparent annoyance before picking me up in an unnaturally delicate grasp. I felt his fingers twitching, and I knew deep down he had been dreading exactly this kind of situation. From what little remarks he put my way, he just wanted it to end, and soon. He wouldn’t forget any of this.

   “Reform!” Arkv screamed, and I saw him through the lessening crowd, thrashing his free arm wildly in the air, still managing to let off another dart with the other. Marco was retreating, following the gap and hurdling over the bodies of the fallen, of all different races.

   ((Oh no…))

   Jake’s worryingly distraught voice followed a bang from across the room. Over Marco’s chunky fingers I could see the smaller door to the mining area had burst open, and from it poured an unexpected reinforcement.

   Surote had seen them, too. “Reform the ranks, you fools! Block the tunnel!”

   The Yeerks had been here for a long time, scrounging an existence on the resources they had been mining. They were trying to establish a sustainable population.

   Of course there would be kids.

   Their cries were dissonant and pervasive. Juveniles of many races emerged into the battleground with adults looking for the fight. Was it a tactic? Were the Yeerks using such underhand tactics? It didn’t matter.

   Six or seven new and capable fighters had entered the ring, naïve and ignorant children following parents into the path of danger. Santorelli, in the midst of an oxen rage, was galloping in a large semi-circle to annihilate Yeerks straying into the periphery. He hadn’t seen the new entrants.

   ((Kids!)) Jake called. ((Watch out for the kids!))

   He saw them at the last moment. Three crying juveniles chasing a male Oo that had stormed towards Team Hook. Santorelli stumbled, kicked back against the ground, but his momentum carried him ever forward.

   A flailing knee whipped the face of a tiny Mak. The child thrust backwards with a sickening twist. Santorelli clattered the ground and came to an awkward canter. He said absolutely nothing. He didn’t even look back. He disappeared behind Team Hook.

   The darts flew and the bodies dropped. Team Hook were satisfied with sedating the juveniles, but even they looked shaken. Marco had carried me back behind the line to safety, but that left Jake and Menderash.

   The Yeerks were down to three. Two Gedds and one Hork-Bajir. What must have been at least sixty lay on the spoilt floor, either dead or incapacitated.

   “Forward!” Arkv ordered. Outnumbering the Yeerks, there was little more need to maintain the line. Team Hook bounded forward, but they were too far from Jake and the last Hork-Bajir to take immediate aim.

   Jake was injured. He limped heavily on his front legs, and the once-proud tiger striped were disgraced with bodily content. The last Hork-Bajir picked him as a target, but even he was in no great condition. He was dizzy, swaying from side to side as he moved. Nevertheless, he was forcing Jake backwards toward a wall of piping.

   The Hork-Bajir lunged! A stray, clumsy foot caught on the downed body of a Taxxon and with Jake leaping to the side, there was only one thing the Hork-Bajir was going to hit. Head blades caved in the pipes with a _crack_ , and green gas came billowing out around the head of the Hork-Bajir! Jake saw the cloud forming before him and made the quick and wise decision to hurry out of the way and back in our direction.

   On the pipe… Two red tentacles.

   “What did I say about the pipes?!” Surote blasted. “Clear the area! Take whatever bodies you can! Back down the tunnel!”

   The green mist had quickly swallowed the guilty Hork-Bajir. It’s creeping paws clambered outwards, over the bodies of Yeerks dead or unconscious, snatching them from us.

   ((Tobias, man, can you fly?)) Marco asked of me.

   He opened his hand with palm up, and I tested my wings. They ached still, but the burning had subsided enough. ((Yeah.)) I leapt from him and took flight once more, aiming back down the tunnel. Marco went back to rescue what he could as the green death expanded through the mining area. I lost sight of it past the tunnel entrance, and then I found Santorelli, motionless and silent in the centre of the long passage. I decided to hitch a ride on his back.

_Bang_! I ducked my head as an innate precaution as some kind of explosion rocked the facility. When I looked back, I saw that the creeping cloud had upped its intent, pounding forward like the fists of a heavyweight, punching at the air. At the tunnel entrance, the rescue team came running, bodies of whatever Yeerks they could carry over shoulders and under arms. Santorelli took his cue to move, and I bobbed unsteadily on his back.

   The mining area was lost. The bloating cloud blocked out all light, closing off the entrance as we emerged from the other side, where more bodies lay. I flew off Santorelli’s back while as many bodies as could be held were hoisted upon his strong back.

   In the air I could see it all. Team Hook, still so impeccably professional, were checking for any missed foes. What really caught my attention though, was Arkv. He had separated from the others to inspect the control panels by the toxic chambers. He found a large, transparent box, the one filled with compressed air capsules.

   A look of alarm spread over his face, distorted by the thin veil of water that sustained him. “Sir, this container is not air-tight!”

   Surote’s robot eyes blinked, and then considered. It wasn’t a long deliberation, and the sound of onrushing acidic gas down the tunnel turned a wise decision into an urgent one.

   “We must leave now! Return to the ship! _Now_!”

   The whipping tentacles of green trickled from the tunnel, spilling over the floor like hooks aiming for vulnerable ankles. I could only imagine what damage would be done by the explosive capsules, but I wasn’t going to hang around to find out. I followed the others down the next tunnel, a hassled charge for the exit and the safety of the outdoor sandstorm.

   In the first hall, Fruyt had moved the two Mak and two Oo near our entrance point. With such a small opening, and so many bodies to shift, we had to prioritise. Arkv and Surote took it in turns to bark out orders, and those unable to lift heavy weights were send out into the sandstorm first, including all of us but Marco. Surote joined us as we dragged unconscious Yeerk bodies as far from the building as we could. I could do little more than watch, made difficult by the raging sandstorm that blocked out the sky.

   The blast was like intense thunder. Within the building, the toxic, acidic gas had enveloped the capsule container, seeped in. Even through the thick flying sand I could see the centre of the building beginning to implode after the incredible, uncontrolled explosion. Suddenly, a huge gust of air punched at me, and sent me spiralling back towards to ship, winded and disorientated. The immense air pressure sent debris through the sky, zipping through the air like hailstones.

   “Take cover!” Arkv bellowed as best he could. “Keep away from the building!”

   I saw the last few run. They had left Yeerk bodies behind. Too late, I saw a thick metal frame whip past me, just inches from my wing. I decided for safety, and ducked back towards the ship. I dropped beneath it, sheltered by its impervious frame.

   Nobody was physically hurt beyond repair. We had to wait out the falling debris before heading back to _Enrich_ , and very few exchanged glances. Only Arkv was speaking, and that was to dish out whatever orders he felt necessary.

   That is, until Surote started to make some very unusual sounds. It was a bleeping jitter at first, and then a whistle. Heads rose, eyes narrowed.

   He was twitching, convulsing violently. His metal eyelids flickered asymmetrically, white claws clenched and flexed at random. Everything about him was shuddering, and it was getting worse!

   “I… told… you….!” He garbled mechanically. He couldn’t finish whatever he was going to say. Sparks flashed beneath his chest plates, and jolts grappled his head. Hands covered all eyes in anticipation, just as Surote’s upper half gave up the fight and burst, sending lightweight metal everywhere.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

   I hid away in a corner for the journey back to _Enrich_. With my small body, I could so easily disappear and lock myself away from the adversity that flowed freely elsewhere. I blended in, silent as a feather, but I could hear absolutely everything. The accusations, the insults, the comebacks. It was a sick, humourless sitcom, and my friends were the reluctant antagonists. With Surote out of action, Arkv was in charge, and he didn’t hold the same professional restraints as his robotic master. He bore into the others like the prosecution of a murder trial, and the rest of Team Hook were enthusiastic, angry cheerleaders.

   I wanted away from it, but there was no escape from the cramped compartment; a cramped compartment with nine unconscious Yeerk hosts strewn around like Christmas ornaments. A pitiful nine, out of what I could only assume was far more than the eighty-or-so predicted.

   Kids… We couldn’t save the Human, either.

   I started to side with Arkv. I blamed myself. The others were taking my share of the blame for me, but I couldn’t bring myself to emerge from my shadow. I simply couldn’t. Their stares were darkness, their voices a choir.

   They took every last drop of it. Every degrading syllable, with only the tamest responses. Their restraint was unbelievable, but the damage would only be stored like fuel to a pressure cooker.

   The torment would eventually subside when Team Hook had had their say. The pilot announced the instantaneous transit through space and our descent back to the shelter of _Enrich_ , and the sounds of docking overrode everything else. Arkv delegated tasks to the rest of Team Hook, and saved the most embarrassing for us.

   “Take Surote to the laboratory,” He ordered. “And explain what happened. You are dismissed.”

   Surote was in pieces. An overload in his system had caused his core to burst. A flaw in his build, but fortunately the fail-safes had kept his head – and the Yeerk inside – intact. His pieces had been placed inside lightweight boxes, ready for moving, and one by one my friends took them with straining arms. Four boxes. Not enough for me. I morphed, anyway. With the strength of a Hork-Bajir, I took the heaviest box without struggle. I wouldn’t excuse myself from the punishment like I had aboard the transporter.

   We took Surote up three decks and to the laboratory, a place we had visited before. We were permitted into the reinforced doors and endured the walk of shame through the vast corridor that branched into busy workstations. Not a question was asked of us, but the eyes provided more than enough answers. And we escaped nobody, because the robotics section was right at the back of the laboratory. It was a separated, white-walled shelter nestled beneath the blackened backdrop, the entrance a subtle hole at the side that our boxes could barely fit through. Midway through the process of shuffling them inside, a familiar set of hooves stomped over.

   ((What is… You…)) Asaccah stuttered. He wore a thin, protective red coat over his front and a magnifying eyepiece over his right eye, distorting it to disturbing proportions. He was the last person we wanted to encounter, but our luck had clearly abandoned us.

   Marco dropped his box with an unwise thud. I and the others placed them down with somewhat more care. Jake, as per usual, was left to explain to the bewildered Andalite. “He had some kind of overload. Arkv said he should be okay.”

   ((Of course he would be!)) Asaccah screeched wildly, displaying the composure of a leaf in a storm. He scurried to the boxes and rummaged through, pulling out the motionless robot head past a piece of torso and an arm. ((There you are…)) He cooed wistfully. ((It’s okay. It’s okay… We’ll get you fixed.))

   Jake was struggling for anything to say, perturbed by Asaccah’s bizarre emotional display, clutching the dismembered head like a dying child, forelegs kneeling with grief on the floor. “You, uh… You can fix him?”

   ((Of course I can!)) He burst, switching like a lightbulb. ((Foolish Humans! What happened out there?!))

   “We got ambushed,” Jake said. “Things got messy. We all managed to get out, and took some Yeerks with us.”

   Asaccah was immediately suspicious. ((How many?))

   “Nine.”

   ((Nine?!)) He burst. ((Out of an estimated eighty-seven?!))

   Jake explained further, “The building exploded when toxic gas hit a bunch of compressed air capsules. The whole place is covered in the gas. We rescued what we could.”

   Asaccah was furious, his balled-up fists shaking and his weedy tail twitching. He almost dropped Surote’s head, but retained enough awareness to stop it slipping from his grasp. ((I assure you Humans that I’ll be conducting a full investigation into this! I will receive my reports from Arkv and Fruyt and make adjustments accordingly… after I’ve undone this damage.)) A fist uncurled and soothed Surote’s skull.

   “We did what we could.” Jake asserted, an attempt to bypass Asaccah’s emotional reaction.

   ((You will report to the debrief station,)) He seethed. ((And you will wait there until I have spoken to you again. Be prepared to wait for some time. Now get out!))

   We left it at that, petrified by his impulsiveness. Slowly, we crept back out of the sheltered zone, watching as Asaccah continued to caress Surote’s remnants, whilst screaming at his assistants to prepare various tools. He vanished behind a white wall, and we exhaled.

   “How long will we have to put up with this shit?” Marco whispered in Jake’s direction, almost accusingly.

   “As long as it takes to get what we want.” He whispered back.

   “So never.” Marco replied.

   “Not now, man. Not now. I’m not in the mood.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

   The debrief didn’t ever seem to want to rear its ugly head. We were abandoned in a joyless waiting area near the main hangar, left to stew with the grotesque taste of failure on our tongues. It seemed that after every effort, we would find ourselves with fewer and fewer pieces left of what made us. Feeling like the elephant in the room, I was quick to demorph and locate the safety of a shadow, with little other to do than look for all those missing pieces. Of all of us, Santorelli in particular had always been the hardest nut to crack, so well-versed in resilience from his old career and capable of emersion into terrible situations. Today, he had finally lost, and his military optimism had all but forgotten him. He had taken out a child. By accident, but that didn’t matter. An alien child, but that didn’t matter. He wouldn’t speak of it and he wouldn’t acknowledge compassionate implications from the others, but everybody knew the reason for his change.

   What made it all worse was the fear of repercussion, and every second of waiting just made it greater. How fierce would they be for our mistake? How much did they prize the rescue of long-isolated Yeerks? Every scenario was thoroughly dissected within those long five hours, from the benign to the outright loss of our cause. It was our first mission with them… surely they would understand.

   Asaccah was expected to come in and barrage us with schizophrenic screeching, before casting us out and promptly giving us yet another enemy to avoid. What was actually got was his comparatively stable equal. We heard the mechanical whirs of his four metal legs before he arrived, and surely enough the fully-functional Surote strolled in, looking like he was fresh from a Toys ‘R’ Us shelf. Was he angry? You couldn’t tell from his features, but it was answered with his first words.

   “My friends,” He announced. “Thank you for transporting me to the laboratory.”

   We exchanged glances, unsure and confused. Asaccah clearly wasn’t with him, but Surote had definitely arrived with the intent to see us.

   “No problem…” Jake replied warily.

   “Asaccah had informed me that he’d sent you here,” Surote continued, marching into the centre of the room. “He wanted to speak to you first after seeing the reports. I told him not to bother. He wasn’t pleased. Before you think that I’m taking this lightly, however, I’m not. That was the worst rescue mission I’ve ever seen.”

   Jake twiddled his fingers anxiously, before tentatively suggesting, “I think we need more training.”

   “It would seem so. It was always going to be a risk to take you, but we are short on numbers and I wrongfully assumed you’d be fit for the job,” Surote explained. “I consider it a fault on my part. Your methods of dealing with threats during the Yeerk War were considerably different to how we approach problems here today. Because of this, you have my forgiveness for the errors made today.”

   A collective, but hidden sigh of relief, only visible from the subtle changes in postures. Jake, perhaps feeling it necessarily, and it likely was, issued our apology. “We’re sorry for how things went down today.”

   Surote bowed his head respectfully. “Accepted. Now I would like to remove you from this room. I’m sure it’s done nothing to aid your emotional states. Please, follow me. I will show you the project we are working on.”

   It was an unexpected invitation, and one we were very interested in taking up. The inner workings of Enrich had been a hot topic among us since we first laid eyes on it. Witnessing an undergoing project was something we’d not been granted the privilege of, as our previous visit had been deliberately vague and strategically guided so that much of the ship remained confidential. I took a ride on Menderash as the curious journey through the ship began, up five decks and down three lengthy corridors.

   It still amazed me how advanced the ship was, but it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. The halls of the corridors were self-cleaning, the walkways lined with the silkiest velvets, and when we walked past the accommodations we could only stare in awe at the mini-paradises designed specifically for each entirely-unique inhabitant, like walking through zoo exhibits constructed perfectly, right down to ambience and humidity. We were greeted by every passer-by like old friends, with the one exception of Et who merely huffed when we bumped into him while passing the galley. The scents of glorious foods from around the universe preceded him.

   Shortly after the accommodation areas, we wandered by several control rooms manned by maintenance workers. The place was more formal, and everybody around us was clearly busy with their jobs. Surote, infrequently chatty throughout, led us down a set of steps to space where the walls were instead the dull grey of thick metal. The doorways were sealed with strong clips, and precautionary signs surrounded us. He closed the hatch behind us, and our travel had ended.

   “You may have been wondering,” He started. “What happens to those we save. What I’m about to show you is top secret. Understood?”

   “We understand.” Jake replied without hesitation.

   Surote continued, while slowly motioning towards the largest of the three doors around us. “Our actions must always remain undetected. That’s difficult, considering what we do. If we want to save Yeerks and their hosts, we must ensure that they do not leak information about our ship or our people. The Yeerks are removed from their host bodies, and the hosts are kept anaesthetised until they are transported to an area we consider suitable. The Yeerks themselves… They’re not so easy to simply relocate, and I’m sure you know why.”

   “Kandrona.” Menderash speculated.

   “That, and the Yeerk predisposition to take new hosts,” Surote added, as he began to unclip the door. “It’s a problem, but one that we’re trying to solve. In the meantime, we have a temporary solution.”

   He pushed open the door, and our heads all craned to look into the narrow hole in the wall. What we saw was a vast, open hall, colored magnolia and with numerous coloured shapes and objects hung from the high ceiling. The doorway opened to a balcony, protected by two thick bars. Surote hopped through, and signalled for us to follow.

   Menderash followed Jake through, and as we each stepped onto the balcony we spread sideways so that we could all get the best view of what was below. We heard them before we saw them, and it was a curious sound. Over the balcony, I could see everything on the floor that dropped about four metres below us. It was bizarre… A cross between a refugee centre and a kids play area. There were large, dazzling screens, shallow pools of water, mazes and slides. It was all placed around lines and lines of what I could only describe as dog kennels.

   And whirring around like hundreds of erratic guinea pigs, tiny robots dotted the landscape. Mini-Surotes, barely a foot tall. They wandered the hall, quizzed through the mazes and several were riding tiny red cars, comically bumping into each other or any of the various obstacles in the way.

   They talked, too. Quiet, monotonous voices that culminated into a nonsensical drone from our position. Some of them noticed our presence and waved, to which Surote gladly responded.

   I couldn’t tell the emotion in Menderash’s voice. “What is this?”

   Surote looked to him. “My friend, these are the Yeerks we have rescued. They are here until we can locate the most suitable home for them.”

   Menderash couldn’t understand. “Why… Why all this? What is the purpose of these robots?”

   Surote chuckled. “We seek justice, Menderash-Postill-Fastill. The Yeerks started their war partly because they knew of the senses that they couldn’t have in their own natural state. Their actions in stealing the lives of others was unjust, but what is also unjust is depriving them of what they have lived with for so long, especially when it can so easily be provided. These robots offer them the senses that we all are gifted with, without the Yeerks requiring a living host body. Here, in this hall, they can indulge all of their senses, and they are happy. Eventually, we wish to return them to their homeworld, but only when we can be assured that they will never again threaten such a terrible war. And I do not lie when I say that they won’t. It will _never_ happen again.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

   A small Kelbrid cruiser had arrived at _Enrich_ with a crew of one. Surote, as punishment for our performance with Team Hook, had sent us to aid in the disembark by emptying the cargo hold and moving the ship deeper into the hangar, something that he felt infinitely more capable of doing. So we finished our lunch and headed down to the docking bay just as the cruiser was settling down, keeping well clear as the thrusters heated the local air.

   The egg-shaped, minimalistic ship kneeled, bending hydraulic legs to allow its belly to touch down. Three compartments opened up its inside, granting us access to the small crates and barrels of supplies that was only a small portion of _Enrich_ ’s daily intake. When blue lights showed, our permission to get to work was granted. I morphed Hork-Bajir again, preparing for a couple hours of heavy lifting. I was grateful for the time-wasting opportunity.

   We directed over a few cargo transporters. Marco and Santorelli were given the duty of guiding them to stores when loaded full, and return them when emptied. The rest of us were to take items from the belly of the ship and load them onto the empty transporters. Nobody was complaining about the job at hand, because there was more interesting stuff going on around us. Both Surote and Asaccah were present. That was not common practise for stock deliveries.

   I was beside Menderash. Jake was inside the ship, pushing boxes and barrels in my direction so that I could lift them out. Menderash was stacking them onto the transporter, with Marco ready to move it away. When it was full, Marco left, and we had to wait for Santorelli to return with the next transporter. In between all the rushing workers and moving cargo, Surote and Asaccah were approaching, chatting like business associates, a small team of high-rankers with them.

   ((It must be the Kelbrid,)) I heard Menderash consider. ((He’s not with the Yeerk and the traitor.))

   I noted his sneer, and responded privately. ((You still have reservations about this place.))

   ((Yes. I do. Are you surprised?))

   I took another glance at Surote, who had stopped just before the ship. He was about ten metres from us, casually conversing with the others. ((No.))

   ((You saw what he had. There were hundreds of Yeerks in that room. All of them just recently imprisoned. He, himself, is a Yeerk, and I have no doubt that the evil of the Yeerk Empire still runs in his blood.))

   I reached for the next crate as Jake dragged it over. He didn’t pay attention to me, or to Menderash. Menderash wasn’t involving him. I wrapped large arms around the crate and hoisted it down from the ledge. ((Even after all they’ve done for us?))

   ((What they’ve done for us?)) Menderash huffed. ((I’ve seen no benefit to our involvement with them.))

   ((They’ve given us new technology. They’ve given us the chance to find Ax.))

   ((A façade!)) Menderash spat. ((We’re doing their dirty work and making no progress to achieving our mission. We are little more than ants to them. And what’s worse, a new Yeerk army is being formed right under our noses.))

   ((And what if they’re genuine, huh?)) I argued. ((Maybe we need to be a little more patient.))

   ((Patient for who? A Yeerk?!))

   ((One Yeerk,)) I replied. ((Members of hundreds of races. They can’t all have come together only for the good of the Yeerks. What about Asaccah?))

   I wasn’t looking at the time, more focused on rolling the barrel from the ship without crushing my T-Rex feet. The bang of the crate Menderash had been holding hitting the floor pulled both me and Jake from our work. Jake knew immediately that something was going on, and he scanned us both suspiciously.

   ((You can’t possibly tell me that you believe Asaccah to be sane,)) Menderash growled. ((You’ve seen it yourself. He’s mad. In no way can we trust him.))

   The dropped crate had drawn the attention of Surote and Asaccah. They glanced past the side of the ship to witness us. Jake, not willing to make a scene, waved a finger at the fallen item, and Menderash reluctantly reached to the floor to retrieve it. The watching gazes averted.

   “What’s going on?” Jake asked quietly.

   Menderash kept his eyes on Jake’s, even as he placed the crate neatly to the side. “Nothing.”

   Santorelli arrived with the empty transporter and helped Menderash pile on the contents. His reappearance did nothing to dissuade the negative mood.

   ((Jake knows it, too,)) Menderash soon added. ((And yet he continues down this path.))

   ((You talk to him,)) I said. ((If you have a problem, I’m not the one to speak to.))

   He left it at that, and we continued wordlessly, though not without a sense of growing tension. I felt my own mind starting to sink, disappearing beneath that of my morphed body. It dissolved into dim optimism, and for a while it stayed.

   It dissipated when the ship’s one and only occupant emerged down the ramp. Burr-Ammit, _Enrich_ ’s only Kelbrid member, was in a jovial mood as he strolled down to Surote and Asaccah. The chunky, boisterous Kelbrid had a solid laugh about something he’d noticed about them, and was soon engaging in light-hearted discussion. Something about Space traffic. We paid limited attention.

   And then something caught our ears. The implants in our brains had allowed us to understand every known alien language to _Enrich_ and its occupants, to translate and communicate with intelligent races from all around the universe, from the most advanced to the most obscure. Or so we were told.

   Burr-Ammit started to yelp, click and growl in a carefully constructed pattern. Jake and Menderash were quick to notice, and so was I. Surote replied using the same complex set of sounds, as the pair and Asaccah turned away from the ship. Burr-Ammit studied us as the moved, but continued to talk in the secretive language until they disappeared through a circular door at the side of the hangar. Alone.

   ((You saw that,)) Menderash spoke, reinvigorated. ((Secrets. They have plenty of them.))

   ((Everybody has secrets.)) I countered.

   He looked just about ready to drop another crate. This time, his fingers retained their grasp. ((I have no secrets.))

   ((Sure, Eddy.))

   The last of the cargo was loaded, and Santorelli took it away to storage. I stretched to loosen my muscles, keeping silent from the stony glances Jake and Menderash exchanged. Menderash’s paranoia was causing a rift, and Jake knew that all too well. It wasn’t my problem, and it would have been beyond my bounds to interfere. It wasn’t the only source of strain among us.

   We were going to leave; retreat to our private quarters for yet more reflection, tug at the proverbial strings that tied us together. It was infinitely more comfortable than bathing each other in pointless passive aggressive accusations. But before we could depart, once Marco and Santorelli had both returned, we were stopped in our tracks. Surote had re-entered the hangar, and we crossed paths. When his movement angled in our direction, we knew that we were needed yet again. Our group stopped, and the mechanical being clumped forward to address us. He showed no anger or frustration, but nor was he chirpy or upbeat. He was entirely emotionless, and that was a bad sign.

   “Animorphs. Thank you for helping with the disembarkation. Burr-Ammit shares his gratitude.”

   “No problem.” Jake replied dryly.

   “Before you leave,” Surote said as we were ready to walk away. “Burr-Ammit brings news. It regards The One. You will join us in the assembly room in one hour.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

   Any minor grudges were put aside, and we even gathered in the dining hall to waste away the hour that we had spare. We ate from the vast buffet; shelves all around with only the greatest, healthiest foods throughout the known universe. It was a foodie’s heaven, and this time I didn’t have to taste with the dull hawk senses. The flavours hit me like a microburst. I would take some home with me as one of the few positives for the future ahead. Ket would adore me for eternity. Even more so.

   It was a nice placebo before the meeting in the assembly room. I gobbled down the last of the gloriously orange _Ak-i-fo_ fruit and hoped that the aftertaste would last. A single-file march to the assembly room followed, guided by the ever-unfunny Groof. The wacky black insectoid beast, though eccentric and a little socially unaware with regard to Humans, wasn’t ignorant of the group’s negative ambiance. His jokes, though well-intentioned, were never going to be enough to break to spell.

   I trailed behind, staying central to the corridor so that stray blades wouldn’t catch on the silken walls. Groof made a comment or two about it, but I was too aware of my immediate surroundings to really notice or care. The next two steps were far more important than the words spewed another ten away. I caught onto the change of surroundings from claustrophobic halls to a junction with circular, plain metal doors at each side.

   “Here!” Groof cheered. “It’s a good thing that I guided you, rather than Iiriti, because they have no eyes and cannot see!”

   His raucous laughter went unaccompanied. The harsh, sneezing/wheezing sound of it was as much like Human laughter as his joke was like Human humor, anyway. Maybe he thought we were laughing in our own silent, Human way.

   He squirmed with many stumpy, crab legs and tapped a pincer on the surface of the door. “Assembly room. You should go in quietly, because Surote and Burr-Ammit are already here. Make sure you don’t hit your head. Especially you, Tobias, because your morph is too tall for the door!”

   The comment was treated as another joke, but it was just another in the long line of wide misses. Groof wasn’t joining us for the meeting, and though he was in no way a bad person, I simply didn’t want to be around him.

   With the futile intent not to draw attention to ourselves, we pushed through the round door. It was silent as an owl feather, but the contrast in light would have been plenty enough to make our arrival known. The assembly room was dark, lit mainly by hologram, three-dimensional maps at the lowered front. It was like a lecture hall, or a section of a coliseum. In the shadows, and with diurnal Hork-Bajir eyes, I could trace the shapes of each and every member of Team Hook, as well as a few more unfamiliar members of the ship’s crew, clustered up the sloped floor, those capable of sitting doing just that while the others leaned or stood up straight.

   Centre-stage and proud, Surote was sketched in many shades of blue, red and green, visible through the rotating map of some unknown section of Space, the bland white of his body a willing canvas. Behind him, I barely noticed Burr-Ammit, hidden in the far corner, awaiting his turn.

   “Thank you for joining us,” Surote spoke with a hint of frustration. “Take a seat anywhere. We can begin.”

   “What is this?” Marco queried forcefully. Jake’s head span back, angered by the unwarranted demand.

   “Sit down and you’ll find out.” Surote countered, that previous little hint more exposed.

   I got the impression that Team Hook had been less capable of forgiveness for our misgivings before, and a wave of resentment brushed our senses when we approached to take our seats. Repelled like magnets, we barged into the spaces right at the edge of the room. I sat behind them all and politely, clawed hands on my knees and tail wrapped neatly around my waist.

   “Welcome back,” Surote announced with a clear, booming voice. “I apologise for stealing your down-time, but Burr-Ammit has returned with news that will involve you in the near-term. Without mincing our words or building mystery, I’ll tell you now: Next mission commences in two days’ time. The goal is to disable a Kelbrid Support Station, Enrich-side of the _Gratt_ Border. Burr-Ammit will detail.”

   It was left to sink in for a moment while he and the Kelbrid exchanged places between the floating, luminous maps. Burr-Ammit was less intimidating in more than just visage. He strolled on like an aging pop star making his grand return to stage, confident and assured, a grin on his face. He had the physique of that aging pop star, too, which was not quite so flattering.

   “Good to see you again,” He started, pacing lightly between the holograms. “Before we start, the good news: I got you some Kelbridi Taste Beans. The best ones. You’ll be dancing with the walls!”

   A very light murmur of pleasure from among Team Hook. The Taste Beans were among the best foods I’d tried aboard _Enrich_. And equally hallucinogenic.

   “Moving onto the _actual_ news…” He continued, stepping to the map on his immediate left. He gazed into it. “During my visit, I dined with General Lupio. Despite his injuries from Andalite imprisonment, he has refused rehab and re-taken his place as Commander of the Capital Base on _Kyritlyp_. He was very eager to discuss the next steps in the retaking of the _Kelbr_ Belt.” He swooped a hand through the hologram, flickering fingers around a red mist that formed a squiggle, like an earthworm winding its way. Then his hand dropped away, and the hologram zoomed in. The red mist was larger, but to the bottom of the image a dotted line emerged: The _Gratt_ Border. In-between, a blue cross glowed brightly. “They’ll be sending The One to the Belt in order to disrupt Andalite communication lines. From there, they plan to infiltrate the belt and remove all presence of Andalites and their allies. By placing a Support Station here,” He pointed at the blue cross. “They will have a secure path to the Belt and a clean escape route should the Andalites counter. The Support Station is a direct link for The One, and allows its reach further through space.” He looked directly at us, as if to illustrate specifically. “Just like an internet router.”

   Their heads nodded in understanding. Mine remained steady, more perplexed about Burr-Ammits eyes spending an uneasy amount of time on mine. He broke the link and went back to the details.

   “We cannot allow a Kelbrid creation with such incredible power to destabilise Andalite Space and its inhabitants,” He said with gusto. “The consequences of a Belt invasion would be catastrophic. The inhabitants are notoriously aggressive and will not surrender until every single one is dead, and nor will the Kelbrids and allies allow the Belt to remain in Andalite territory. Millions will die. It is inevitable. To avoid this, we will stop The One from proceeding to the Belt and poisoning the area. Disabling the new Support station will ensure that The One cannot reach the Belt. Team Hook, Animorphs, we believe that _you_ are the right people for this mission.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

   I hadn’t had the answers I required. I never went to the briefing to get them, but I was desperate to gather them from anywhere.

   “He’s such a jovial Kelbrid,” Groof explained, somehow perfectly navigating the twisting corridor with his head facing me at a one-eighty angle to his body. “I don’t understand his humour, though. It’s like Human humour: Too simplistic, really.”

   ((Of course.)) I replied with little interest.

   “I never asked why you wanted to see him. Why didn’t you speak with him in the assembly area?”

   ((I want to speak with him alone.))

   “Oh! It must be a private matter!” He exclaimed. “What is it?”

   “You just answered your own question.” I sighed, ducking to avoid catching my blades on a pipe overhead.

   He guided me through to the living quarters of the more influential members of the ship. We sidled past Fruyt who looked just about ready for a century-long nap, and heard to muffled turning of Surote gears crackling through his accommodation door. Burr-Ammit’s door was a telling shade of purple, outlined with brilliant silver, but not a single sound leaked past the single hinge. Groof stood proud, raising a claw to indicate Burr-Ammit’s availability. “He’s definitely inside. He’s very quiet for a creature with lungs. They’re always so loud!” He laughed.

   I gazed at the door, and then raised a fist towards his waiting, rock-hard digits. Into his grasp I dropped two small, jangling objects. The makeshift earrings – a couple of keyrings – would be enough to satiate his obsession.

   He snorted with glee as he inspected them. “What lovely earrings! Thank you my confused friend! I shall find you in the dining hall tonight.”

   Groof left me at the door. Taking a few seconds to gather my thoughts, I twiddled nervous fingers and gazed blankly at the empty door’s surface. I gave up trying. There was little point in planning. I knocked twice on the door, hard enough that I was sure to catch his hearing.

   “That’s a Human knock!” Burr-Ammit’s voice came brusquely from within. “I can always tell!”

   I slowly pressed open the door and let my curious snout turn the corner. “Burr-Ammit,” I spoke. “It’s Tobias.”

   I saw him just as he howled a fit of laughter. He was slumped lazily in leathery seat, fierce Kelbrid feet rested on a concave white desk. His hands were rested on his spoilt stomach. “No it’s not! Hork-Bajir never had a penchant for lying.”

   I fully emerged from the hallways and allowed the door to swoop shut behind me. “Can we speak?”

   He eyeballed me, pulling his feet down to the floor and resting him arms on the desk. “Sure! Sure. Take a seat, my feathery friend.”

   I located the indiscriminate stool before his desk and took my place upon it. I took the moment to observe my surrounding, and discovered that his accommodation area was shunted away to a corner, consisting of two thick velvet curtains opened around a hammock. His priorities were clear enough, but his cheery disposition would do nothing to give that away. Aside from the sleeping area, the place was a hive of advanced computers, displays and shelves of bland but intimidating cases and boxes.

   When my focus returned to the Kelbrid, I noticed his ogling had only intensified. “What can I do for you, huh?” He asked curiously.

   I took a deep breath to refill my lungs and prepared for the poking question. ((You just got back from _Kyritlyp_ … I want to know when… _how_ we can get Ax back.))

   He cocked his head, and then returned to a more relaxed position, collapsing back into the headrest. A finger tapped lightly against the side of his nose. “A very forward question! I was expecting a hello, at least.”

   My teeth clenched uneasily. I couldn’t place the underlying implication of it, if any existed. I stuttered a single, nonsensical syllable.

   He laughed again. “No worry, Tobias. No worry,” He coughed harshly into a hand. “I was waiting for one of you to ask. Why, that’s the whole reason you’re here! How stupid would I be to think you wouldn’t come asking?” His laughter continued, and though I tried to join in, it would come across as distinctly awkward. “If I could, I’d get that six-limber out of there with a friendly handshake and a thousand coupons to any Earth food establishment of his choosing. No doubt about that, my flighty companion. But, hey, these things aren’t easy! Takes patience and lots of it!”

   “I know,” I replied weakly. “It’s just…”

   He noted my hesitation, and how I turned my head away to find the right words. “Hey, Tobias, don’t worry about it,” He spoke with more restraint in his voice. “We’re working on it. This stuff is complicated, I’m sure you know, huh?”

   “Have you got anything at all?” I pleaded. “Any information? Is Ax even still alive somewhere?”

   He chuckled lightly, scratching at his stomach before reaching behind his desk to rummage for something. “You think we’d drag you through all this mess if he wasn’t?  I get it. You’re friends are probably thinking that this is all some ruse. I can see that. Listen,” He pulled up a small container and placed it onto his stomach, clicking a latch to open it wide. His claws explored its innards. “Prince Aximili is alive. The One would have no use for the six-limber if he wasn’t.”

   “Have you seen him?” I pressed.

   Burr-Ammit raised a large syringe from the container, as well as a small bottle. He pierced the lid, and with delicacy sucked the perfectly clear liquid into the chamber. “Not personally. I’ve seen his form as part of The One’s many illusions, though. That’s a good enough hint for me that he’s still alive and well. The One requires a specimen alive and with a stable mental state. The mental capabilities of the specimens determines the power of The One. All of its intelligence, all of its aggressions and passions. Even its depravity and madness. We try to avoid that, though.”

   ((So Ax is…))

   “In perfect condition,” He finished for me. “And he’ll be kept that way. When we do eventually recover him, he’ll still be his old six-limber self. An absolute pest, no doubt!” He chortled joyfully, and used the pause to aim the syringe to an exposed wrist. He pressed, the sharpened, gleaming tip tearing at his soft skin to an emergence of a droplet of dark, deep purple blood. The metal dug deep, nestling into vessel, and once in place his forced out the clear liquid. Slowly, the chamber was emptied, the contents newly homed in Burr-Ammit’s blood system. A satisfied smile spread over his snout, and his eyelids fluttered dreamily. He pulled away the syringe and threw it aimlessly across the room.

   His drugged state slowed him, but he was still sober enough to explain sluggishly exactly what it was. “Important stuff. For you,” He laughed, but less abruptly than was usual. “That liquid keeps me entirely toxin-free! If it weren’t for that, you’d be dead!”

   I suppose it was comforting… Sort of…

   “We’ll get Aximili,” He reassured, regaining some of the clarity to his words. “You ever heard that saying about us Kelbrids? Maybe you’ve heard it around here sometime.”

   I shook my head. ((No, I haven’t.))

   “It goes something like this: If you can’t trust a Kelbrid, you can’t trust nobody. Never heard that?”

   My mind suddenly conjured a memory. It came back vividly, and I became uncompromisingly suspicious. I glared at him without the breaking of contact that my plagued my whole visit. “No, I haven’t. I bet the Yeerks didn’t hear it, either.”

   He rolled his head back, smile dissipating briefly. “I _think_ I know what you’re talking about… Remind me.”

   “The Kelbrid fleet destroyed a Yeerk Blade Ship at the Gratt Border. The Yeerks were betrayed.”

   For the first time, I saw a strong hint of seriousness on Burr-Ammit. His stare was intense.  “I can see that you haven’t been told anything more than what you saw. There’s a whole lot more to the Yeerk War than you think, my friend. What’ve you been told, huh? What ideas have the Andalites put in your head?”

   I was confused, but ever more curious. I recalled the stories in the back of my mind. “I guess resources, territory… Money. Nothing different to most wars.”

   He laughed. “That simplistic, huh? You honestly think it would be so petty? Listen, my friend, I’m not sure how many lies you believe, but you need a good flushing-out. Did they tell you all about Seerow’s Kindness?” He asked with great sarcasm.

   “Well, yes…”

   He cackled with amusement. “Seerow’s Kindness was a big fat lie! Bigger than my stomach and fatter than Asaccah’s head! No no no… Seerow was a scapegoat. The Andalites had a Yeerk spread planned for years! They managed to convince some gullible fool like Seerow to hand over technology, and then shifted him right into the inevitable Yeerk path so that he could be disposed of. The Andalites worked things very well, to their credit.”

   I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My tongue felt cool air drifting as my jaw unconsciously descended. “But… No way. Why would they even do that?”

   “To send the Yeerks right into Kelbrid Space,” He explained, placing his hands casually behind his tentacled head. “Did they ever show you the maps?! Ha! It’s so clear that your Hork-Bajir morph could spot it! They released the Yeerks and formed blockades to force Yeerk movement right towards the Kelbrid border. They did what they could to avoid collateral damage to habituated planets in the way, but as you know perfectly well, no plan is without its flaws, huh. Once in Kelbrid Space, the Yeerks would do whatever damage they could do to us! They invaded our allies. Far too many of them for us to not notice. The Andalite plan was to use the Yeerks to bring the Kelbrid Empire down subversively, but we weren’t so stupid. We ignited the military and retook ally planets, killing off the disease. With our own spies we knew that the Andalites were using the Yeerks as a source of information, so we did the same.  We then convinced the Yeerks that we would ally against the Andalites, and gave them our greatest technology. The rest… you probably know what happened.”

   “But I still can’t understand why!” I exclaimed. “Why would they deliberately release the Yeerks? I can’t… They aren’t evil like that!”

   “Of course not,” Burr-Ammit muttered. “I’m not going to say that they’re all evil narcissistic maniacs. The history between Andalite and Kelbrid goes back a long, long way, and the is fault everywhere. Desperate people do desperate things. I’m sure you know that, my friend.”

   “The Andalites d-didn’t even know the Kelbrids,” I stuttered, desperate to find the error. “Surely they would remember the Kelbrids if they had so many issues!”

   Burr-Ammit sighed and sat back further in his seat. His strange eyes scanned the ceiling. “A few Andalite generations ago, the big guns knew the Kelbrids very well. They found the Yeerks and realised their potential. When they knew what they wanted to do, they erased all public information on the Kelbrids. By the time their six-limb grandkids were spouted, nobody knew a thing about the Kelbrids.”

   ((Why?)) I pressed.

   “They didn’t want those Yeerks knowing what they were being pushed into. You think they’re going to willingly travel into Kelbrid Space, knowing what’s on the other side? Those six-limbers aren’t dumb. They knew the Yeerks might get their stumpy fins on an Andalite brain. They made sure that that Andalite brain would be squeaky clean of those dirty little details. Worked a charm, huh? Yeerks went into Kelbrid Space and thought they could walk it! Took the Mak, took the Oo. Problem is, they couldn’t take us! Ha! They had no chance.”

   My head slumped. The information was itching into my head, but something just wasn’t going to let it invade unfought. I couldn’t reply, couldn’t think of another problem with his story.

   “A few nutjobs with a nutjob idea,” He sighed. “That lie became the truth. How many still know the truth among the six-limbers? Maybe five? Six? You should ask Asaccah about that. All I know is that it’s not many, and that there’s nothing they could do to stop it.”

   “What is the history?” I uttered to the floor. “Why do they hate each other so much?”

   “That’s a story that lasts far more than the few minutes you have left in that body, my soon-to-be-scaly friend.”

   My head bolted up, instantaneously forgetting everything else. “What?!”

   “It’s been over three hours since I arrived on Enrich. You haven’t demorphed,” He chuckled. “I think something’s been playing on your mind!”

   I immediately began to demorph, cursing myself that I could be so distracted. I began to shrink in my seat, a sign that I still had time.

   “You’re very distracted,” He continued as I made the change as fast as I could. “Doesn’t surprise me one bit. A few disputes within the group, huh?”

   I stared up at him with half-morphed eyes. ((I’m just… I’ve just been thinking a lot.))

   He nodded understandingly. “Things don’t look so good for the mighty Animorphs. Sorry to say it, but we’ve been watching you closely. We’ve noticed the high tension.”

   ((We have a common goal.)) I replied, not sure whether to feel angry or not.

   “So what happens when you achieve that?” He posed. “What do _you_ do? Your hawk body is aging, and it won’t last much longer. And if you think you can stay with the others, you think they even like each other?! No no, they can’t stand each other. Jake will refuse to lead. Marco’s brain is sizzled. Menderash has no faith in the others. Colin… I thought he was doing fine, but he’s been acting different since returning from Ooguui. The Animorphs are doomed, my friend. I’m sorry to break it to you.”

   ((Once we save Ax, there’s nothing left to do. It doesn’t matter.)) I argued, closing in on full hawk form.

   He smiled. “If you say so. Go and rest, my feathery friend. You have a mission to prepare for.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

   The infiltration team had regrouped after a deserved rest. The assembly room was once again our meeting point, and we had been separated deliberately into numbered factions. Us Animorphs remained together, but with us – in an unannounced but obvious supervisory role – were Arkv the water-breathing Hrri, and Fruyt, the mud-burrowing Uurgangannignan. Task leader and first aider, respectively. As I perched silently on Menderash’s shoulder, Fruyt was paying closer attention from the seat on our left. Arkv, as leader, was explaining the mission to the room, poised hauntingly between the two flickering holograms of relevant sectors and ships. He used his typical angry, water-muffled tone to detail the plans step-by-step. He would thrust his rubbery, three-fingered arms at each group as if chastising us for some hideous crime. Everybody around us was entirely unfazed. It was the norm.

   We were group two, otherwise known as the Holding Party.

   “Enter through the storage room anterior of the main hangar,” He growled. “Kelbrids are highly unlikely to be positioned there. Survey Party will do preliminary checks using the _II Het_ for hostile lifeforms within twenty _ecs_ , and Holding Party will defend the entry point to storage.”

   The innards of the support station we would be invading were displayed in great detail on the holograms around him. The storage room was an oval shaped bulge, like the cornea of the hangar eye.  Arkv’s nailless finger traced to the door of the storage room. That would be our first objective.

   “All other parties wait with the ship during Phase 1,” Arkv continued. “Phase 1 is completed upon securing storage. Phase 2 will commence on my command.”

   The tapping of buttons signalled that recording devices were ready to memorise the next stage of the plan. Santorelli had been given the task, and pressed a chunky finger on the small red button on the circular disc placed in front of him. It was much easier than scribbling things down with pen and paper.

   “Phase 2!” Arkv boomed to grasp any trailing interests. “Infiltration of the hangar and adjacent corridor. Sweep Party will enter the hangar and circle the walls to eliminate all threats. The alarm will sound and all Kelbrid soldiers will be alerted. They will arrive from compartments b, c and d.” He indicated each of the enhanced image of the station’s interior. They were equally spaced throughout the place, only a short distance from the tiny hangar. There was, however, just one entranceway: A long corridor meandering through the whole ship. “Sweep party will take this corridor and place stun turret 8. The Kelbrid security are likely to back-off to compartment e, which contains an emergency entrance to the hangar on the starboard side.” Again, he indicated the hidden door. “Holding party will work to seal this entrance as soon as Sweep Party have secured the main corridor to the hangar. While this is happening, the Engineers will cut through the steel walls at the posterior of the storage space and head to the main control rooms via the station’s air shell.”

   The hologram image swivelled to display a side-on view on the station’s interior. All along the curved underside was one encompassing chamber, all the way from the storage at the front, to the control rooms at the rear.

   “This shell is used as a protective buffer around the vessel, and is very rarely inhabited. It is a clear run for the engineers to the control rooms while the Sweep Party retains the attention of the Kelbrid security,” Arkv illustrated. “Holding Party will remain in the Hangar and surrounding compartments as a safe point. Phase 3: Engineers will enter Control Room a, seal doorways and proceed to implant the virus that will fatally corrupt the station’s systems. Sweep Party will advance through the ship towards the control room in order to protect. Holding Party will keep the corridor clear, maintaining the free pathway to the safe point.”

   Arkv went on to describe each Phase in fine detail. By the end of his talk, it had been drilled so thoroughly into our heads that it was more familiar than breathing.

   “You will succeed,” He insisted, more as a demand than a line purely for inspiration. “And you will do so with professional attitude. Lives are at stake.”

   He left centre stage, and the holograms disappeared, switched by the room’s main lighting. The brief was over, and subtle muttering replaced his growls and barks. Fruyt, not seeing the final battle order as satisfactory for us beginners, turned his shovel-like head and spoke clearly, “You will remember these orders. I will be testing you regularly. Don’t let us down again.” He got up and left, dragging his spatula feet noisily on the ground.

   “The freak’s giving us exams now?” Marco grumbled. “Makes me wish I was back in school.”

   “This shit is worse than biology class,” Santorelli added dryly. “At least I knew the _frog_ was getting dissected.”

   I appreciated the trivial comments to some degree, but it was only a matter of time, when the room was steadily emptying of its inhabitants, that Menderash would whisper his objections into Jake’s ear. I stared past his long, curly hair to witness Jake’s reaction. “This is madness, Jake,” Menderash suggested. “It is only a matter of time before one of these missions gets us killed.”

   “We’re doing it.” Jake responded bluntly.

   “We are getting nowhere,” Menderash continued with more force. “They are using us as additional manpower! We are expendable to them!”

   Jake turned in his seat aggressively. Menderash jumped back a little, which required me to flap my wings to keep balance. “We are doing this, Mendy! We are positioned in the hangar with the medic and the team leader. We have the least dangerous role to play. If you want to go home to spend the rest of your life back on Earth hiding in that fucking shack, if you don’t want to find your Prince, then be my guest.”

   I couldn’t see Menderash’s face. He was unresponsive, but from Jake I could decipher an unpleasant, glaring exchange between them. Marco and Santorelli, sitting in the seats behind, looked away innocently.

   The room had almost emptied, and yet we remained seated, unwilling to find anything else to do to waste time before we travelled to the Kelbrid Support Station. We all watched when Arkv seemed to head in our direction, rising up the steps and zig-zagging through the rows of black fabric seats. He strode with thick, stumpy legs down our aisle, emotionless but purposeful.

   When he came within normal speaking distance, he addressed us. “Animorphs, it’s good to see you back again.”

   “Not according to Shovelhead,” Marco retorted. Arkv knew it was a reference to Fruyt. “That guy’s about as friendly as a chainsaw wound.”

   Arkv had no interest in the useless comment. “What happened before is in the past. Surote and I deemed you capable of performing this role.  You will stay with me and Fruyt at all times, and you will do exactly as instructed. When this is over, you will dine with me. I have arranged Seeriffso berries. They are a delicacy of the Hrri.”

   “So I’m guessing they grow underwater?” Jake assumed.

   “Of course.”

   “I always loved seafood.” Marco commented without conviction, but with enough false politeness to appear outwardly convincing.

   “Will Fruyt be joining?” Jake asked.

   Arkv flexed his fingers on his right hand twice. That was a Hrri way of saying no. “Fruyt has essential duties to take care of upon his return. He is one of the main Yeerk supervisors. Surote has shown you?”

   “We’ve seen them.” Menderash said with subtle disdain.

   “Excellent,” He said. “Go get ready for tonight. I’m sure it will go much differently to the last time.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

   DNA pads were dispersed amongst Team Hook. Fruyt held the small circular slice of fabric to Menderash’s shoulder, allowing me to clutch it with a steady talon. I concentrated, focused on the anonymous Kelbrid civilian. The genome was acquired, and Fruyt took back the pad to drop it in a trash bag. He moved onto the next in line.

   Our Kelbrid morphs would no longer be identical twins. Everybody had a unique, random Kelbrid running through their veins. In a Kelbrid support station, it was the best chance to cause hesitation among the enemy. Hesitation could save lives. Not that Arkv expected to lose any.

   Then we boarded the stealth transporter. It was a deep, nightmarish black. So black that every fine detail seem to fall within it like victims of a black hole. When we entered the glorious, gleaming hangar, it was like staring at a tear in reality, with the vague shape of a long, jagged ship. Large angles stuck out from all sides, and Arkv explained that it was to deflect radar beams such that they would not bounce back to their source.

   “Musta stole that idea from us.” Santorelli spoke exclusively to us, adjusting a large cuboidal bag hoisted over his shoulder. I didn’t understand the reference, and from what I saw, only Jake knew. Must have been a military thing.

   A hatch opened in the side of the stealth ship. The glow emanating was a radioactive green, and it illustrated a smoky haze around the opening. The expanded Team Hook began to board.

   Arkv stood beside the entrance, counting heads as they strode into the spooky innards. We were last in line, and he offered some words before we took the steps up. “The O-Neoos have a deep affinity to green. They also create the perfect stealth ship. Virtually undetectable, even to the most advanced radars. Don’t expect to be comfortable.”

   He smiled, and it was probably meant to be a comforting one, but it gave us no pleasure. One by one, we marched inside.

   Whoever the O-Neoos were, they clearly didn’t care much for eyesight. Not even my hawk eyes could pierce the haze of green. We had to follow the sounds of footsteps ahead of us, the Humans with arms outstretched to determine the walls.

   The ship was only small, so the trek to the squadron compartment was generously short. The haze was thinner, too, so we could identify the bland, black space and the bodies of the assorted aliens around us. There was a line of communication to the pilot, and the compartment door leading to the entrance corridor was slammed shut. The pilot, hidden in the dark, shrouded bridge at the bow, got the all-clear.

   All vessels affiliated with _Enrich_ had been upgraded with the technology to teleport across vast chasms of Space, and this one was no different. The ship rumbled and rose, and we were frequently updated on progress as the pilot guided us away and into the empty darkness of Space.

   Then, suddenly, we were there. No long travel, no time to rest. No time to anticipate.

   “In the vicinity of Support Station 310!” The pilot called from the bridge ahead.

   “Morph!” Arkv followed. “Set firearms and prepare for landing!”

   The entire room began to change. If the sounds of one person were disturbing, try a whole claustrophobic room of about twenty aliens of all shapes and sizes. There were squeaks and squelches, groans and gurgles. Weird alien organs shuffling audibly to form the efficient Kelbrid systems. It was utterly nightmarish, and I was suddenly thankful for the thick green haze that blocked most of it from sight. By the time it was over, the compartment was a hive of armed-and-ready Kelbrid civilians.

   Team leaders strung colored bands over their right shoulders. Arkv wore an orange one, while Fruyt, as the medic, wore light blue. Arkv made himself clear to us, and tapped his shoulder strap twice with a sharp Kelbrid finger.

   I took my paralysis gun from the big square bag that Santorelli had been carrying. The pistol-like weapon was awkward, but I’d been given some limited training. From the seat behind me I brought up a case of ammo, and placed those small cubes into the looped metal that stretched from the barrel, up and behind to the rear of the weapon. The ammo snapped in, one into the barrel and the others to the back, ready to replace the first when called upon. I checked the barrel, the safety catch and the crosshairs hidden in a tiny scope on top. It was ready for action. I flexed purple fingers around it and gripped firmly.

   The pilot announced, “Successful infiltration of station radar field. Undetected. Landing anterior of hangar storage facility.”

   The ship shuddered, vibrating as it neared the solid surface of the Kelbrid station. The high-pitched humming to which we had habituated began to drop drown as the near-silent engines came to a halt. Motion stopped completely, quiet as a swooping owl.

   “ _II Het_!” Arkv ordered.

   The Brou’gn, with lime green, squat little limbs, brought forward the bulky _II Het_ – a milky grey rounded pad that fit neatly into its right hand – and placed it flat to the compartment wall closest to the station outside.

   It huffed twice, like a stubborn teenager. Such a signal was a positive sign, judging from the object’s retraction from the wall and Arkv’s ensuing order, boomed in a gruff Kelbrid voice: “Begin Phase 1!”

   Packed and with full lungs, the squad made its way back through the green haze to the exit hatch on the ship’s side, split into each party. Our Holding Party, with Arkv at the rear, marched through in second behind the Survey Party. The hatch had been opened, with a tunnel forming a fabric seal between the shuttle and the structure outside. Brou’gn used the _II Het_ once more for another check against the storage’s dull-grey outer surface, and seemed satisfied that nobody was within range. He and another member utilised other tools as they got to work on creating a hole in the side, a passage in, while a third activated the sound shield around us. It was an operation much the same as the last time. Only, last time, we didn’t expect a competent, organised force on the other side.

   The massive, sharp tool was cutting handily through the station’s shell, forging a hole large enough even for Et, the gigantic seaweed monster, to duck through. The surface soon gave way, and it was placed gently to the side. The Survey Party, with extreme caution, slowly edged into the dark storage area. There was very little light present to illuminate the area, but it was a relieving sign that it was likely uninhabited. They surveyors disappeared inside, sweeping their various  handheld detecting devices into the unknown.

   It took them less than a minute. ((All clear.)) We heard from their team leader.

   ((Secure the entrance.)) Arkv reminded. With gentle steps, and rapidly adjusting eyes, we crawled through the gap.

   ((Whoa, whoa…)) Santorelli alerted from the front. ((There’s about a metre drop here.))

   Arkv noted, and added, ((Careful on descent. First two down head straight for the entrance as a pair. Everybody else scatter to the sides. All focus to remain on the entrance.))

   ((Gotcha.)) Marco replied. He cautiously dropped down in the storage room ahead of me, so that all I saw of him was the faintest outline in the dark. He joined with Santorelli, and together they headed forward to seek out the doorway. One of the Survey Party started to lead them.

   Next down, I moved further to the right, aiming to take my place along the wall of the oval-shaped room with clear sight of the entrance. I nestled down beside a collection of obscure crates and allowed my eyes to fully adjust. Everything was tinged with green from the glow of our ship. Both parties were in place, with the rest waiting in the ship for the next phase to begin.

   Arkv had positioned himself a few metres from me. I could just about see the reflection from his orange shoulder strap.

   ((Storage secured, sir.)) A report came.

   ((Anything of concern?)) Arkv asked.

   ((Nothing.))

   He nodded. ((Activate signal scrambler. Initiate Phase 2.))


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

   The _II Het_ was placed to the wall. What we expected was a small hangar with an equally small number of Kelbrids residing within. When the _II Het_ started to flash a startling red, we knew that our assumptions were met.

   Six flashes. Seven flashes. Eight. Nine… Nine flashes. Nine Kelbrids.

   The Survey Party retreated to the wall opposing the hangar. They would scan the outer air shell of the station and prep a hole in the compartment for the Engineers’ entry. Taking their place was the Sweep Party, armed to the teeth and each sporting a blue-green striped shoulder strap. They shouted directions through thought-speak and invaded the area beside the door, guarded by Marco and Santorelli. Six of them - nine Kelbrids. Even without surprise on their side, the odds were good. Their abilities were impeccable, so we had been told.

   The signal scrambler was fired off for a second time, and that was the cue. Arkv tapped a finger to the cold wall, and the Sweep Party leader released an abrupt hiss. Marco and Santorelli stepped aside.

   A Kelbrid hand slid to the opening side of the circular door. The team were poised and ready…

   Then the light of the hangar burst through, replacing the bodies of the Sweep as they bundled out. The guttural shouts of Kelbrids echoed in, whether from our own or the adversaries. The click of paralysis gun fire quickly followed. All the while, Arkv had a hand raised into the air. We all watched and waited, until the moment that he shot it back down.

   I got up, pulling on my aching, kneeling legs, and gripped tighter on my gun. Marco and Santorelli, closest to the action, had already entered the battlefield. I was next through, charging with full speed at the smallest angle from the hangar door I could be allowed. Behind me came the deafening sting of a stunner blast, a burst of electric energy. The Kelbrids were firing back. Golden flashes decorated the air.

   ((Move in, Tobias!)) came a shout from Arkv. ((Push them central!))

   I halted my run along the edge and allowed my sight to peer into the action. I saw two blasts of enemy fire, but the only bodies I saw were our own, crouched behind large objects and shuffling forward, keeping to the ground.

   _WEEEEEOOOOO! WEEEEEOOOOO!_

The station’s alarms were sounding! It was inevitable, but it came as a burst of panic, anyway. I ordered myself verbally to focus, and recalled Arkv’s order. I bent down and crept forward, finding shelter behind a big, boxy wheeled vehicle. The Kelbrid fire was blasting some way off, and so I deemed it safe to turn and aim. I slid my gun around the side first, and followed with my head.

   I saw a small number of downed Kelbrids, maybe four or five. Not a single one had a shoulder strap on. Nearby, I saw Jake crouched beside half a Kelbrid ship, fiddling with his weapon’s spare ammo. He was temporarily out of action. When I noticed that no enemy was within eyesight, I snuck over to his hidden position.

   ((I see four down,)) I said, accepted the worst-case scenario. ((You out of ammo?))

   ((No, man. Just reloading the damn thing.))

   ((I have you covered.))

   He ducked back further, while I hovered at the edge of our shelter. The firing was still present, though more infrequent. I heard calls that they’d been blocked from the only exit from the hangar, but with the alarm raised, their reinforcements were surely not far. The sense of urgency to _end it now_ was swelling between us.

   I swivelled, bringing the paralysis gun to attention and gazing down the barrel. Two of ours had pushed up, still in the midst of the battle. I stayed low to the ground and emerged from my spot, unblinking as I searched for whoever remained in our way.

   There! I had seen one! Joined with frantic, panicked calls, was what appeared to be the last hostile Kelbrid sprinting behind a large green concave barrel. Starved of reinforcement, his shots were aimless and chaotic.

   “Back-up!” He screamed over sizzling weapon fire. “Back-up hangar!”

   ((Kelbrid reinforcement will arrive within the minute!)) Arkv shouted with insistence. ((Get it over with!))

   I charged forward past another defence, holding the gun barrel to my eye line, seeing the head of the last Kelbrid wobbling around the scope. I slowed, focused harder, tried to get him perfectly in line…

   I flicked the cylindrical trigger. The barrel clicked, the cube surrounding the dart melted and set off some complicated chemical reaction. The soaked dart blasted away with the politest of explosions, sent hurtling like a missile to the target!

   _Chink!_

It bounced harmlessly against the side of his metallic cover. Damn!

   I flicked a switch to reload, sending another cube hurtling around the weapon’s ungainly loop, readying it once more. But before I could even think about taking my aim again, the opportunity had passed. A dart, doused in the peculiar anaesthetic, sank snugly behind the Kelbrid’s baffled right eye. He swayed, and then collapsed forwards, colliding the barrel and falling consequently backwards. He was down.

   ((Got the bastard!)) called Santorelli victoriously.

   Then came Arkv’s next ear-piercing order: ((Secure the corridor! Move it, move it, move it!))

   The Sweep Party were the first to organise. They sprinted to the hangar exit route and began the next assault. A defensive turret was being placed. They would progress further down the ship, securing all that they could with whatever surprise element remained. Our Holding Party were to do just that: Hold.

   They pushed down the corridor to the inevitable tune of weapons blasting. Arkv pulled our party closer together, just behind the exit, and waited on signals coming from ahead. The Sweep Party leader reported as they worked to secure the first compartments. When he did, Arkv commenced the next steps.

   ((Begin infiltration of the air shell! Holding Party, secure emergency entrance!))

   Jake added a delegated order. ((Mendy, Tobias on me! Sarge, Marco, position by the main entrance!))

   Fruyt added from nearer the storage compartment, ((Medical post set! Providing guard to Survey Party!))

   ((Hold positions until my command!)) Arkv concluded.

   I jogged towards Jake, who was climbing a set of steps to a small, discrete emergency entrance that hugged the starboard wall. Jake pushed cautiously through, uncovering a grungy, shadowy passageway and gazed into the unknown. ((Clear.)) He said.

   Menderash and I joined him at the threshold. I took a look myself, seeing the passage descend towards the opposite end of the ship with a slight curve inwards. No noises, no sign of an oncoming force.

   But any competent tactician would see its value. It would only be a matter of time. The question was: How many would come charging our way?


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

((Engineers have entered the shell!)) came the report. ((Approximately four minutes to Control Room infiltration!))

   ((Passageway to Control Room secured. Holding against further attack. Brace for contact through emergency entrances!))

   The Kelbrids had been split, as the Sweep took the main corridor through the spine of the station. The action would cause the Kelbrids to resort to other means, and we were ready and waiting for surprises to jump out at us. We just had to wait a little longer, to allow the Engineers to take the Control Room and corrupt the systems.

   Our eyes were glued to the emergency hangar entrance. It was silent. Completely. The expectation was to hear echoes from far off, an indication that somebody or something was coming through. But there was absolutely nothing.

   ((They are taking a long time,)) Menderash said to Jake. ((Perhaps the crew is smaller than expected. They may have been taken out by the Sweep Party.))

   Jake was not so easily convinced. ((The Kelbrids aren’t stupid. They’ll have measures to deal with this. It can’t be over so easy.))

   Arkv was beginning perimeter scans, wandering around the edge of the hangar, his weapon in hand like a third eye forever trained forward. It all seemed clear and calm, and so it remained for two or three more minutes.

   ((Engineers are below the Control Room. Sweep Party, prepare to clear path.))

   ((Sweep entering the Control Room. Brace for contact!))

   ((Control Room breached!))

   _SLAM!!!_

   We jumped back away from the door as it suddenly blasted shut! Jake almost collapsed backwards over the rail behind us, and I noticed his weapon was no longer on his person. A crumpled mess of metal was pincered in the closed door frame.

   ((Brace! Brace!)) Arkv boomed! It was not only our door. The doors to the passageway and the storage had also spontaneously clamped shut.

   The surprise had come. Closed off from the others, we could only await what the Kelbrids had in store. It was not something that Arkv had planned for.

   ((Open the doors!)) He demanded. ((Restore through-routes!))

   Jake reacted quickest, and charged ahead to barge his shoulder against the hard metal of the door. He bounced back off of it just as I and Menderash positioned for reinforcement. I grabbed for the gun trapped in the frame, and tried to pry the door open with it. The barrel snapped away with ease, and I was left with useless, twisted metal. I threw it to one side and joined in using brute momentum and strength. I pressed both hands to the door and used all I could to shift it.

   Nothing. It didn’t budge an inch.

   ((Doors have locked!)) Santorelli shouted.

   ((Survey!)) Arkv called. ((Get the machine on the storage door! We’ve been locked in the Hangar!))

   ((On our way, sir!))

   ((Get a move on!)) He demanded.

   He came away from the far wall, head swivelling with alert, left and right. Something was coming for us, but not even he knew what.

   Then, Fruyt saw them. He spoke with alarm, and I saw him backing up against the wall by the storage compartment. ((Unknown entities approaching from above! Six!))

   Every head in the room shot up to discover the six things he was referring to. They floated down mutely, spreading outwards towards the walls. The looked like flying security cameras, though bulky and intimidating, shimmering grey all over, and they hovered steadily on the air.

   ((Avoid them!)) Arkv said. Then he reached into a belt around his waist, pulling out an entirely different weapon to the paralysis gun. It was square and black. He took aim and fired, sending a sizzling purple beam at the closest descending object. The blast hit, but nothing came of the attack. The object continued its trajectory unencumbered. Two of them were headed for us with beady mechanical pupils, arriving close with a haunting whir. When it became clear that its route would come to direct contact, we made the collective decision to move. We abandoned the emergency entrance, taking Arkv’s new order as priority.

   ((More of them!)) Fruyt warned. Giving a brief glance, I shuddered to see at least another six floating down from the high ceiling. Fruyt had moved away from beside the storage entrance, chased by a single one of the flying contraptions.

   Marco and Santorelli had split. I saw Marco bolting towards us, seeking safety in numbers. Santorelli, on the other hand, was reaching down behind a small Kelbrid transporter that looked somewhat like a miniature X-Wing without a sheltered cockpit. When he stood tall again, a large metal pole was clutched in his purple claws.

   ((Little fuckers!)) He barked as he stormed forward with intent to swing. The machine took aim, and seemed to slow in the air as he stomped closer. It clicked, something churned, and just as Santorelli’s pole came crashing to its frame, sending it sideways, there came a sudden and continuous spurt of green gas! It was thick and dark, and it billowed in a narrow stream before blossoming into an ugly swelling cloud.

   ((Get away from that! Don’t get yourself killed you thick-headed ape!)) Arkv screamed. Santorelli jumped away from the stream of green smoke that poured as the machine turned itself back around to aim. He kept away from it, and seeing that his attack had no lasting effect, he took the wise decision to retreat.

   He came back to us, but the machine followed. As did four others. They were going to trap us.

   ((We need to find out how to disable these things!)) Marco said.

   ((Just keep away from them,)) Jake suggested, though he looked internally indecisive. ((Split if you need to.))

   Arkv was still some way across the hangar, trying to identify a way past three machines that were tracking him. He bellowed again at the Survey Party, hidden somewhere behind the locked Storage door. ((Get us out of here! _NOW_!))

   ((We’re trying!)) The Survey leader responded desperately. ((Something’s interfering with the electronics! Our jammers have been blocked!))

   ((Open that door!)) Arkv reiterated.

   Our gazes tracked the machines around us firmly. Their approaches had changed. Slowed. Some of them moved sideways, forming a curved line, side-by-side each other. They were trying to move us back. We remained as a group, still so uncertain. Fruyt and Arkv were on the other side.

   ((They’re moving us back towards the emergency entrance, Jake.)) Menderash informed.

   ((Don’t let them. Split!))

   On the order, we attempted it. Everybody picked a direction, the clearest pathways around the many flying machines that tried to enclose us. Fruyt had moved closer, then in the centre of the hangar, followed by two of them, and he had sensed our movements. ((Keep away from edges,)) He warned. ((Don’t get trapped!))

   But it wasn’t that easy. There were enough machines that everybody was being tracked by two at a time, and the faster we moved, the quicker they would follow. It was a cat and mouse game, and the cats had formed a collective intelligence bent on one goal. I found myself constantly turning back, as if to head to the emergency entrance, failing to outwit the adept machines. If we allowed them to catch us, or we strayed too close, a spurt of the green gas would be fired. It almost caught my tail when I took a hairpin turn to dodge, and just being skimmed by the cloud sent pain shooting through my neurons, and with it I yelled out. I weaved in and out of machinery in the centre of the hangar, trying to avoid their infinite gazes.

   Arkv had been assessing the scenario, himself trying to evade the mysterious robots. Repeated reports of the Survey Party’s failure to activate the cutting machinery was forcing him into snap decisions, but it was a situation with little reprieve. We couldn’t keep running in ever-decreasing circles.

   It was only a matter of time before somebody fell foul.

   I was back near the emergency entrance. There, the flying machines seemed less aggressive, more content with our positioning. Jake was curious, and his infrequent calls were to monitor their activities based on positioning. Eventually, we became more clumped, and when we ended up near the still-locked emergency entrance, the spurts of green gas ceased. Jake was about to reach a firm conclusion and announce it too Arkv and Fruyt, who remained a little further away.

   Our grouping caused another change in behaviour. I saw three of the machines turn away, satisfied that the others around us were substantial. They went over towards the nearest second target. Arkv was near the storage doors, hoping for the Survey Party to break through. He kept in contact with everybody, still wholly in charge of the operation, urging the Sweep Party onwards to disable the ship.

   Six machines were on him. It was too much. He tried to dodge two, but ran into the arriving three. The aggressive robots fired, shooting simultaneous streams of gas in his direction! He fell into cloud, and his screams of agony were instant.

   ((Sir!)) Fruyt cried out in horror! He switched direction, lunging towards the incident.

   Arkv stumbled forward, emerging from the cloud with bulging eyes and a gaping mouth. His body looked like it had been dipped in oil, soaked and shimmering in the lighting of the hangar.

   And in an instant, when he’d frozen in place with stunned expression, he burst into flame.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

   “Ahh! AHH!!!” he screamed, guttural and uncontrolled. He was a raging fireball, a glowing torch, flailing in an aimless dance.

   “Arkv!” Fruyt yelled. “Get to the floor! Get to the floor!”

   Arkv wasn’t paying attention. He started to run again, bundling forward on panicked, clumsy limbs, screaming in such a horrible, brain-etching way. The guilty machines followed, but refrained from firing again despite him being within range. They knew the damage had been done.

   Fruyt reached him and was quick to barge him roughly to the ground. Arkv hit down hard, still screaming innately with distress, but the intervention brought some sense back, and he started to roll across the ground in an attempt to put out the fire.

   ((There!)) Marco shouted. He pointed to an object placed neatly beside a small transporter. It was covered in a thick fabric. We might have a chance to help.

   ((Let’s grab it.)) Santorelli said, already running a beeline to dodge the machines that tried to trap us. They seemed somewhat lenient, though not entirely off-guard. Two of the machines started to turn, following Santorelli’s movement across the hangar to the covered object. If he and Marco weren’t quick enough, they may have suffered the same fate as Arkv.

   “Hey!” I barked at the machines, waving my arms. I jumped closer to them. Jake and Menderash caught on, and together we berated them, shouted at them to grab their attention.

   Jake ran dangerously ahead of one, just out of their apparent firing range. “Here!” He shouted, stamping his right foot to the ground to accompany his bellows.

   Was it needed? We couldn’t be sure. The machines seemed to watch us like an unamused but patient audience, just waiting for a punchline to rear its welcome head. Marco and Santorelli had freed the fabric from its home, and untracked by any machines sprinted hurriedly to the groaning Arkv. Small flames licked from his smoking tendrils as Fruyt desperately rolled and covered him, granting some relief but unable to extinguish the fire. His body was blackened and burned. When the large fabric was wrapped over him, and the flames had been extinguished, it brought no end to his pain.

   And despite their efforts to carry out a mobile first aid, the adversarial machines refused to fire again. They followed, curious and attentive but little more than witnesses as Arkv was bundled over towards us like a smoking mummy. Cradled over the shoulders of Fruyt and Santorelli’s Kelbrid morphs, his screams had descended to croaked groans. Fruyt laid him down before us, and started to unravel both the fabric and the medical bag wrapped around his waist. ((I have to treat him here! Guard us! Don’t let them attack again! I’m assuming command of the task.)) He ordered. Then, to everybody else, ((Alert, alert, alert! Arkv has been debilitated! I, Fruyt, assume command! Continue as previously instructed. Standby for further orders!))

   We formed a quick circle, allowing Fruyt to treat Arkv between us, but the machines had fallen back somewhat. They were still there, and they still surrounded us in a circle much like our own, but they remained out of range and unmoving. They were satisfied with our position.

   ((What is this?)) Menderash questioned. ((What is significant about keeping us here?))

   Jake was startled, and though he hid it well, his jerky movements were a clear sign. A sticky hand was massaging his chin obsessively, scratching a non-existent itch. Through the shuddering, he was lucid enough to override Mendy’s suggestion. ((Nothing. They’re keeping us together. We’re cornered.))

   We were silent, but for the saddened words of encouragement Fruyt was offering the horrifically wounded leader. I tried to keep my eyes gazing outwards at the machines, but a cruel part of me couldn’t help but glance at the charred mess lying on the ground, sizzling still with undying heat. Fruyt’s remedies simply weren’t enough.

   ((Somebody’s coming!)) Marco called out. ((Emergency entrance!))

   I was looking the other way. Thinking that the machines were no longer a threat if we kept our positions, I swivelled around to see for myself. In front of Marco was the bland stairwell leading to the emergency entrance. The door had quietly opened, and a calm collection of Kelbrids were entering the hangar, highly armed and highly irritated.

   ((Hold your fire,)) Fruyt said solemnly. ((They have us.))

   ((To hell they do!)) Santorelli replied.

   ((Don’t be stupid! Now is not the time for your gung ho heroism!)) Fruyt seethed. Then, he spoke outwardly again to the other parties. ((Holding Party captured. Engineers, do what you can. Brou’gn, assume command in my place. Get us out of here.))

   Ten Kelbrids had arrived, eyes trained upon us, tuned to each movement, ready to punish transgression. One of the Kelbrids wore a crimson scarf, indicative of an officer. The silver stripes that decorated the majority of Kelbrid bodies were broad and splendid on him, zig-zagging over his limbs and torso, rather than minute, near-miss-able details on most others.  When he turned from the stairwell, I counted six golden triangles glistening from the silky fabric. He was our captor. His small army surrounded us, a few steps inwards of the now-redundant hovering machines.

   He surveyed us, finding his spot between his soldiers. “Who is this?” He spoke with an atypically smooth voice. “Rebels? Imposters?”

   ((Say nothing!)) Fruyt insisted.

   The officer waited patiently for an answer, but none came. “You will be taken prisoner, and you will answer us one way or another. Who are you, and why are you here? Explain.”

   “Bite me!” Santorelli burst.

   Fruyt sighed and shook his head lightly, still crouched over the groaning body of Arkv.

   “Bite you?” The officer squeaked. He turned quizzically to one of his soldiers, who responded with a blank, unknowing grimace. He swivelled back to Santorelli. “I will not do so until given substantial reason to.”

   “Fuck you!” was Santorelli’s witty retort.

   “Bite me. Fuck you…” The officer contemplated, genuinely baffled. “This one is peculiar. Soldiers, watch him carefully.”

   After receiving a few angered stares from the rest of us, Santorelli quietened, resigning to cursing inwardly rather than outwardly. We all remained silent, refusing to disclose an answer.

   The officer was looking down to Arkv, who will growing more aware of the situation, but still moaning in agony of the burns. “Your friend is in need of immediate medical care,” He said. “We will take him to the station’s medical arm. He can still be saved. Allow us to take him.”

   Fruyt did not move. He stayed hunched over the fallen leader like a protective shield.

   “Take him,” The officer told his soldiers. “Get him medical care immediately.”

   Three subordinates approached Arkv’s position. Within two steps of advance, Fruyt had grabbed and raised his hidden pistol, something more fatal than the paralysis gun. He held it with warning at the soldiers, who immediately cocked their own firearms and ceased their movement.

   “Don’t be stupid!” The officer yelled. “We will save his life! You can do nothing to help him here!”

   I waited for any order to come from Fruyt. I could do nothing until then but watch from the side, await the first crack of fire from either side as weapon barrels pointed to one another. I couldn’t intervene, and nor did Fruyt want me to. We stood like statues in a circle around him.

   The three soldiers moved forward, but Fruyt did not retaliate. He made his decision, and re-aimed his weapon. He took the barrel to Arkv’s head as he lay on his back.

   “Goodbye, brother.” He said.

   With a blinding fizzle, Arkv’s moaning ended.

   The soldiers hesitated, but kept their crosshairs locked. Fruyt jumped up and away from the body, his own weapon returning to face the enemies again.

   “Murderer!” The officer exclaimed. “We could have saved him!”

   Fruyt huffed. “Your turrets did the damage. I merely ended his suffering.”

  “Soldiers, seize him!”

   Nine armed Kelbrids were now in play, Fruyt their main target. We couldn’t let him be taken. I gripped harder at my paralysis gun and raised it threateningly to the nearest Kelbrid. My hand shook, but he was close enough that my aim did not require precision. My feet took me backwards as the Kelbrid line closed in.

   ((Do not let them take you,)) Fruyt said to us. ((For _Enrich_ , we give our lives. For _Enrich_ , we share no secrets.))

   The first three Kelbrids increased their pace. Our threats would not hold them back. They were within feet of Fruyt, who was by far the calmest of us all.

   ((Brou’gn, take us home,)) He spoke. ((For _Enrich_. For justice. For all.))

   And he turned his weapon to his own chin. He pulled the trigger, and the blast shot through his skull and to the ceiling above. He collapsed to his knees, and then flat to his front, parallel to the body of his leader.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

   Brou’gn took immediate charge from elsewhere in the station. ((Engineers, let’s hurry this up! Don’t worry, Animorphs, we’ll get you out!))

   No matter his words, we would be tricky to convince. We stared in awe at the pair of bodies that lay before us that seconds ago were our best hope of escape. Arkv and Fruyt were dead, unwilling to give themselves over to the Kelbrids.

   ((I say we morph,)) Santorelli said fiercely to Jake. ((These Kelbrids need a good ass-kickin’.))

   ((I’m not sure that’s the best idea. They’ll blast us, for sure,)) Marco replied. ((Captain K there doesn’t look like the patient kind of guy, and morphing big might upset him.))

   Jake said, ((One thing’s for certain: We aren’t taking the easy way out.))

   ((They will likely take us prisoner. They will want to know who we work for.)) Menderash suggested.

   We backed away as several Kelbrid soldiers dragged the two dead bodies away. The officer was barking his orders. “I want them identified as soon as possible! We’ll find out who’s behind this madness.”

   “Sir,” one of his subordinates spoke. “Is there a possibility that these are Andalites in morph? Their weaponry is not of our own.”

   He took a moment to consider, looking us up and down. “Perhaps. If so, we shall find out very soon. Their technology is limited.”

   ((Please don’t say they’re going to imprison us,)) Marco groaned. ((Haven’t we had enough of that lately?))

   “Imprison them.” The officer ordered.

   ((Great…))

   We braced and clustered closer together as the remaining soldiers edged forward. Their weapons were ready and far more dangerous than our own.

   ((I say we give them what we got.)) Santorelli growled, so eager for a scrap.

   Jake, meanwhile, was more tentative. ((The Engineers will crash the systems soon. We have the other Parties surrounding the hangar. They’ll be here.))

   ((You can’t be serious!)) Menderash gasped. ((They were not prepared for this eventuality! We have no guarantee of rescue. You put too much faith into this cult.))

   ((Now is not the time, Mendy!)) Jake blasted.

   “Who do you work for?!” The Kelbrid officer demanded as his soldiers approached. “Are you working for the Andalites?!”

   ((Don’t answer him.)) Jake instructed.

   I felt my tail brush up against somebody else. Another step back, and I could move no further. They had us entirely blocked in, and now the soldiers that had dragged the bodies away were returning. There were only two options left on the table.

   The officer bore his sharp teeth in a snarl. “Do I have to beat an answer out of you?! Tell me now!”

   Of course, Santorelli had to answer. “Screw you, asshole!”

   “So be it…” The officer spoke coldly.

   One of his soldiers lurched forward. With a quick, sturdy jerk of his right arm had cracked the butt of his golden weapon into Menderash’s snout. His knock forced us to separate, but kept him on his feet. He groaned and clutched at his face, but that only left his stomach open to a second jab, which the soldier duly delivered. A sharp exhale was followed by a wheeze, and now Menderash clutched at his stomach, displaying his bloodied nose.

   “You fucker!” Santorelli shouted. He span past the injured Menderash and shunted a sucker punch into the offended Kelbrids jaw. There was nothing stopping him. He laid another hit, and another, before a second soldier interfered kicking at his hips and sending him sideways.

   It had started. Backing down was no longer an option. With that hit to Santorelli, the rest of us began. I swung my gun upwards and stepped into open space. I fired at the nearest Kelbrid, but the dart bounced harmlessly from his rifle! He bounded as my weapon reloaded, and forced his gun sideways under my chin. He forced me back, choking me as he did. My back hit the wall of the stairwell, and the pressure on my neck became unbearable. I scrambled, kicking my clawed legs, but he forced his body close enough to mine that I couldn’t get a good hit in. Behind him, I could only see chaos. A small riot of wrestling Kelbrids became a blur. I saw one motionless on the floor, but I couldn’t tell which side he was on.

   I could hear the thought-speak cries of my friends.

   ((Now, now! Hit him now!))

   ((I can’t get a-OW! Little…!))

   ((Got him! Marco, behind!))

   I cried out, ((Somebody help! Choking!))

   ((Hold still!))

   I did. I stopped my kicking, stopped any force. I looked the Kelbrid in the eye as he gritted his teeth, applying the pressure to my neck. Suddenly, a whizzing sound shot across. A small dart dug sideways through the Kelbrid’s right eye, piercing through the iris. His expression turned to shock, but he went limp as the chemicals flooded his system and he fell away. I choked and gasped for air, stumbling over his fallen body. But only a moment passed before another was on me. I dodged, weaved around who I thought to be Jake and tried to take aim.

   There was a flash, and something shot just by me. I pulled the trigger when I saw my target… Nothing happened!

   I looked to where my hand and gun used to be. A stump. That’s when the stinging hit. I yelped and clutched at it, simultaneously ducking away from a follow-up shot.

   ((Mendy’s down! Mendy’s down!)) Santorelli called. ((Out of the fight.))

   ((I’ve lost a hand. Lost my gun.)) I added.

   We were losing. Outnumbered and cornered from the start, it was wishful thinking to hope for victory. From a glance I saw the Kelbrid officer, arms folded and stood off to the side. He was far more interested than he was concerned. He knew it would end soon.

   He didn’t count on the power being cut.

   ((Into the system!)) Announced one of the engineers from the other end of the small station. ((Opening hangar doors. Corrupting systems. Cutting all non-essential power!))

   And just like that, everything went dark. The light humming that filled the hangar dropped away. The sounds of fighting slowed to almost nothing. Nobody could see, not even the strong Kelbrid eyes.

   ((We’re coming, Animorphs. Hold tight.))

   ((Move, move!)) Jake cried, sensing the opportunity. ((Don’t let them grab you!))

   “What is happening?!” The officer bellowed from the total darkness

   “Power cut, sir!”

   “Find them! Don’t let them get away!”

   I slunk away, keeping my noise to a minimum, just as I knew the others were doing. In moments, Brou’gn and the others would arrive. More than enough.

   “Can’t see, sir!”

   A blast was fired! I turned just in time to see the red blast hit the high ceiling, and for a moment it illuminated the room in a dangerous, shadowed red. Just a couple seconds, but it was enough for one of them to lock onto me. As soon as the darkness returned, I sharply changed direction. I tried to feel out a large surface. Something to hide behind.

   FWOOSH! Another red glow lit us up. I used this one to look for something, and I saw a small transporter just a few metres away. I ducked for it, hoping that nobody had seen me. I clutched to its surface, but purely from interest, I peeked past the craft.

   I heard something moving nearby. Something keeping deadly quiet.

   ((We’re here.))

   Another blast was fired, shooting up to the ceiling. As the red dispersed the shadows, a circle of new, haunting Kelbrid bodies watched over the soldiers like demonic statues. The last of the red glow showed the stunned faces of the officer and his shoulders. And once the light had gone, the sound of many darts firing called to an end the fight. Bodies dropped.

   A white glow lit up Brou’gn’s Kelbrid face from across the room. “Retrieve the fallen and head back to the transporter. Our work here is done.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

   We made our statements upon the return. One-by one, we entered a small office where one of the ship’s staff would allow us to detail the events that took place on the signal station. Not just us. Everybody involved with the mission was to go through the process. I headed back to my temporary quarters once the ordeal had been done, only to find the atmosphere had not dropped below the tension that had become a mainstay.

   Burr-Ammit was right all along. I could see it in their faces. We simply wouldn’t fit.

   Later that day, Surote gathered everybody, not in the usual mission assembly area, but in the main dining hall of _Enrich_. The mood was low, and talking was minimal. Eventually, Surote made his steps toward a small plinth before the drinks table, where bowls of purple soup we had yet to experience were lined. Us Animorphs kept our distance, somewhere near the back of the crowd where we couldn’t readily be seen.

   He stood tall and spread his gaze all around. “Today’s mission was a success,” He began. “We have corrupted the signal station beyond simple repair. The One’s reach has been cut for now. For that, I thank you and commend your efforts. However, elements of the task were not suitably covered going into the mission. As a result, we have lost two of our own. I am not here to place blame, because it is a mistake of us all. It is a mistake we shall learn from, to become better.

   “When we leave this ship, we leave with _Enrich_ on our minds. It is our purpose, the source of our loyalty. Her goals are our goals. We live and breathe _Enrich._ And she aspires for justice. Justice that all shall live worthy lives, and that nobody should suffer unjust punishment. But the universe is full of evils, and it is those evils that we must strive to overcome. Those evils take lives, tear families from their homes, and leave destruction in their wake. Akrv and Fruyt dedicated their lives to fighting evil, and for the cause they made the supreme sacrifice. They took their own lives so that _Enrich_ may continue hers. Loyal soldiers. Loyal friends.

   “So tonight we feast for their memories. We remember the sacrifice they made and what they made it for.  Arkv, and Fruyt, I thank you.

   “Before we begin the festivities, though, there is the matter of role fulfilment. Arkv and Fruyt, as well as being key members of Team Hook, had dedicated occupations vital to the running of this ship. I have decided who shall replace them for these roles. Brou’gn will take Team Hook as commander.  Ojtuo, you will take Arkv’s tactician role. And finally, Burr-Ammit will take charge of the Yeerk hold in Fruyt’s place.”

   Burr-Ammit was to Surote’s left. The decision seemed to come as a surprise to him, but after the initial flinch he shrugged it off.

   Surote ended, “Enjoy the evening. _Enrich_ lives on.”

   He left centre-stage, and the bowls of purple liquid were handed out by the stewards. It was a Hrri delicacy, a fine food from Arkv’s home planet. It was, as was everything on board, delicious, but nobody brought it up as a conversation point. In fact, Jake and Menderash didn’t even touch it, appetites entirely absent. We wanted nothing more than to retire back to our beds and prepare for the eventual journey home. I craved my tree. I would do anything to be there. Alone in my aging hawk body.

   Maybe it was time for me to stop. Just stop. I could easily just hide away. I didn’t have to speak to anybody. Nobody would find me.

   Or could they? What kind of trackers did I have on me? What technology was I prisoner to?

   Surote’s speech had solidified a concept to us all: We were part of _Enrich_ now. Our lives were hers, and Jake had made sure of it.

   All we wanted was to save our friend. How did we ever arrive into this…?

   ((Animorphs.))

   My attention from dragged from my half-empty bowl. Asaccah was arriving, his hooves plodding lazily against the floor. I braced for whatever scalding he was willing to commit, but part of me could never tell what brand of Asaccah we would receive.

   “Asaccah.” Jake greeted blandly.

   ((I was hoping to pass on some words,)) He said calmly. He certainly wasn’t angry, which was a great relief. ((Firstly, well done for today. Despite what happened to our good friends, the reports make clear that you did your roles to an acceptable standard. We are grateful.))

   He received no response.

   He shifted on his hooves awkwardly. ((Anyway, I understand you will be leaving for Earth soon.))

   “Correct.” Jake replied.

   ((Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but my sources on Andal have informed me that the military is stepping up investigations into your actions and disappearance. They’re very eager to locate you.))

   “What for?” Marco huffed. “What good will it do?”

   ((Politics,)) Asaccah chuckled, inappropriately given our stern, disinterested stares. ((You’ve angered War Commander Torceran. He doesn’t forgive so easily, and the Andalite government wants to assure the allies that we are working to bring to justice those that triggered the start of the Kelbrid War.))

   “So that’s the story, huh?” Jake sighed. “We started the war?”

   ((It’s a popular opinion.))

   Jake clasped at the bridge of his nose with weak, weary fingers. “Are you going to suggest something, or is this just a friendly reminder?”

   Asaccah was irked by the tone of his comment, but didn’t speak on it. ((I know that you’re in hiding, and we here are working in the background to ensure that you are hidden. Jeanne Gerard is very capable. Trust us when we say that the Andalites will not find you in your Earthly abode. However, there is one who is at much greater risk. Your friend Cassie is _not_ in hiding, as you know. My sources reliably tell me that the military is targeting her.))

   That brought Jake back. “Targeting?”

   ((They will find you through her. They know of her involvement in the beginnings of the war, and they will use that to their advantage. Jeanne is with Cassie for the foreseeable future, but be prepared to protect her yourselves. You can’t afford such a leak of information.))

   Jake nodded lightly. “Thank you.”

   Asaccah turned and stepped away, back to the mourning crowd. ((Be careful, Animorphs. The War Commander always gets his way.))


End file.
